Masculine Connections Form Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.