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

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea 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

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, 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. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.