Male Friendships Form Differently, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.