Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

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

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.