🔗 Share this article Male Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women? It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked 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 deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths 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 impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked 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 deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths 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 impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.