Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so 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 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate 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 frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending 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 companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.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 argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave 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 also value less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.