Male Friendships Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with 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 private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, 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 is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.