🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to 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 leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to 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 leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.