Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.