Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean 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 company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed 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. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

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

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.