Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.