Male Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's 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 perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass 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 inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling 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 occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

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