🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women? It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study 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 hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. 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 likewise appreciate less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study 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 hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. 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 likewise appreciate less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.