🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women? It's good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. 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 hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one. Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient 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 distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It's good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. 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 hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one. Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient 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 distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.