Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at 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 lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: 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 low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.