🔗 Share this article Male Connections Form Differently, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women? It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem 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 widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed 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 value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to 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 version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, 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 much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential 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—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem 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 widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed 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 value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to 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 version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, 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 much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential 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—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.