🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired 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 deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value 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 This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly 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 do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired 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 deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value 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 states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly 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 do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.