Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity 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? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly 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 centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

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