Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, 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This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. 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 presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed 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 discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding 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 the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.