🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women? It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into 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 This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version 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 enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older 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 offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into 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 quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version 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 enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older 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 offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.