Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight 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 own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling 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 exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.