Male Connections Form Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report 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 countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave 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 also value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

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

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.