Male Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to pass 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 while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred 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—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface 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 indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told 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 verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.