Male Friendships Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; 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, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply 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 company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out 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 the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.