Male Connections Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, 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 point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.