Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners 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 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry 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 strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps 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.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.