🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women? It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency 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 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 own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into 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 underrated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.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 point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, 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 normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency 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 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 own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into 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 underrated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient 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 point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, 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 normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.