Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing 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 comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let 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.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling 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 exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

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