Male Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired 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 encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked 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 elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.