Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend 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 while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.