🔗 Share this article Male Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women? It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly 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 significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing 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 more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly 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 significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing 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 more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.