Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems 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 records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.