Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we 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 unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.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 directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that 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 classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.