Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue 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 study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.