Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency 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 inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially 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 underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem 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 mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
