🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women? It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words? It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words? It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.