🔗 Share this article Masculine Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women? It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass 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 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 typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging 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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass 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 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 typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging 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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.