Male Friendships Form Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred method of bonding, 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 cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.