Male Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

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

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant 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 lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging 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 real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.