Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound 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 ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.