🔗 Share this article Male Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women? It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report 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 exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report 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 exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.