Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend 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 time? 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage 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, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version 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 company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.