🔗 Share this article Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the preferred 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 be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the preferred 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 be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.