🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women? It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency 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 while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient 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 predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. 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 elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not everyone's preferred 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 someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency 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 while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient 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 predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. 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 elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not everyone's preferred 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 someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.