Male Connections Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with 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—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into 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 comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.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 argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

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

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