Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let 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 also appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, 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 begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.