Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, 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 longstanding 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths 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 bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.