Male Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It's healthy 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 habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired 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 closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely 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 widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return 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 woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.