Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 own friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.