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

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.