Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency 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? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.