Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered 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 real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
