Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.