Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of 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, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.