Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events 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 often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective 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 bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless 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 deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked 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 obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.