Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing 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 happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

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

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.