🔗 Share this article Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women? It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive 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 viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive 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 viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.