Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as 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 underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point 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 vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

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 isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, 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 personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask 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 much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats 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 articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.