Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return 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 personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern 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 stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.