Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return 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 handling 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 serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave 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 chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.