🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit 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? Why haven't they asked how X is handling 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 private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing 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 more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit 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? Why haven't they asked how X is handling 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 private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing 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 more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.