Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed 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 emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers 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 preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. 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, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.