Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might 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 seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits 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 struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. 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 company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.