Male Connections Form One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK 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 many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

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: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told 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 obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.