🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women? It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, 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 consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, 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 consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.