Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised 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This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

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 enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

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