🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits 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 bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits 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 bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.