🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Form Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women? It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because 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 chatter. Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because 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 chatter. Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.