Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles 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 revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient 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 predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging 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—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

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

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, 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. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.