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Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point 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?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.

About the author

Kirsten Taylor

A writer and minimalist advocate who shares insights on intentional living and storytelling.

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