Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea 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 spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, 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 obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.