Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong 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 closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.