Male Friendships Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging 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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.