🔗 Share this article Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version 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 presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version 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 presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.