Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths 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 struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.