Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.