Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.