Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

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 evident: just because 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—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.