Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet 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 study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female 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 sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.