Male Friendships Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles 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 knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might 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 unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to 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 historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred 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 appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.