🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women? It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report 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 exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report 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 exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.