Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.