Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing 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 style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.