Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Female Relationships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to spend 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 center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem 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 widespread; 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, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.