🔗 Share this article Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women 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 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women 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 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.