🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women? It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument 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 presence of others who also value less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument 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 presence of others who also value less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.