Male Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.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 idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling 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 seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

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

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.