Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.