Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

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 someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.