Male Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern 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, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
