Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient 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 predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.