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Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. 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 likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.

Written by

Ryan Marshall

Award-winning journalist with over 15 years of experience covering international politics and investigative reporting.

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