🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women? It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 imply it lacks significance. 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 appreciate less talk. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, 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. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly 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 Core Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 imply it lacks significance. 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 appreciate less talk. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, 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. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly 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 Core Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.