Male Friendships Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm 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 candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the 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 fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.