Male Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent 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 closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet 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—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply 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.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly 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 Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.