Male Connections Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging 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 longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"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This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.