🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women? It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report 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 countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report 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 countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.