🔗 Share this article Male Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women? It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study 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 hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study 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 hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.