Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially 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 underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's 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 despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.