Male Friendships Develop Differently, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt 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 not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.