Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

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

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express 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. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.