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

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study 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—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence 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 better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed 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 discreetly 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: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.