Male Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit 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 time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around 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This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.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 engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal 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—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive 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 woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.