🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women? It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging 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 value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely 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 professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging 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 value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely 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 professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.