Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might 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 unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly 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 value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem 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 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 chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told 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 naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.