Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; 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, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.