Male Connections Form One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.