🔗 Share this article Male Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed 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 hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea 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 pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed 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 hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea 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 pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.