Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates 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 come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing 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 comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem 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 ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously 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 remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered 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 Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing 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 acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.