Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass 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 time? 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 typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, 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 keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.