Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits 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 predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly 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. Perhaps we should let 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 also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most 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 affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.