Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the 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 knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.