Male Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed 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 stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.