Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with 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 innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.