Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
