🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women? It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. 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 evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave 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 talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. 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 evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave 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 talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.