Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling 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 exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's 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 the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.