Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with 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 understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view 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 the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation 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 hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly 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 deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.