🔗 Share this article Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women? It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet 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 forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave 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. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked 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 Require Words? It's not the 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 the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet 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 forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave 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. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked 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 Require Words? It's not the 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 the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.