Masculine Connections Form Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.