Male Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return 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 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 understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging 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. 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 presence of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

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 fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.