🔗 Share this article Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women? It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly 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 deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly 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 deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.