🔗 Share this article Male Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women? It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked 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 deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK 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 exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, according to anthropologist 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 northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked 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 deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK 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 exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, according to anthropologist 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 northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.