Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, 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. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

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

As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.