🔗 Share this article Male Connections Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women? It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return 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? From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return 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? From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.