Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to spend 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. 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 refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly 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 worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, 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?

As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.