🔗 Share this article Male Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women? It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing 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 comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging 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 let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. 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 ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the ideal way 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 simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing 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 comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging 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 let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. 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 ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the ideal way 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 simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.