Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return 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 surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.