Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient 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 closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, 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 discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
