Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return 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 seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

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