Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency 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 time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study 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—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.