Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because 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—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated 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 far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.