🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women? It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible 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 articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible 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 articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.