🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women? It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass 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? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy 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 centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised 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 "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, 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, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass 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? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy 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 centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised 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 "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, 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, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.