🔗 Share this article Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women? It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist 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 the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction 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 seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist 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 the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction 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 seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.