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Tuesday, October 13, 2026
Summit Field

Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging 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 return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, as per 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 historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into 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 comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking 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 solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.

The writer

Robert Olsen

A wilderness guide and conservationist with over a decade of experience exploring remote Canadian landscapes.

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