Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty 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 visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. 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 also appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.