Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles 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 own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised 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 underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence 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 voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred 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 simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.