Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no 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, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to 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 historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. 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 also value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. 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 maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.