Male Connections Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per 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 historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year 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 centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except 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 combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.