Male Connections Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view 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 forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.