🔗 Share this article Male Connections Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women? It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.