Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.