Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, 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 more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring 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 everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true 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 difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.