🔗 Share this article Male Connections Form Differently, Female Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women? It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass 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? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern 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, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that 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 vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass 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? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern 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, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that 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 vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.