Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero 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 many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.