Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; 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, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack 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 voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.