Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone 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 come home utterly clueless 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, 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 soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. 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 naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.