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Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.

Written by

Connie Lewis

Maya Chen is a Toronto-based writer and digital strategist passionate about storytelling and community engagement.

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