Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. 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 refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, 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 bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children 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 idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return 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 seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked 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 Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.