Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. 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 hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up 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 "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: 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 deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.