🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women? It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, 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 This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.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 sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, 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 sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.