Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

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 touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.