Male Friendships Develop Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired 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 deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up 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.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing 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 express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.