Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed 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 subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.