Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths 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 struck by 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 value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version 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 likewise value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through 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 comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.