Male Connections Form Differently, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—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 leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.