🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women? It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty 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 visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond 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 value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly 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 Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty 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 visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond 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 value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly 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 Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.