Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty 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 refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of 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 value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal 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 pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, 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. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.