Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view 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 the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging 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 let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger 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. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly 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: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.