Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.