Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—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 idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

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

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need 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 combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.