Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, 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 heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending 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 comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.