🔗 Share this article Male Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women? It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly 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 Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly 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 Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.