Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that 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 vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first 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.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.