🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 mean it lacks significance. Maybe 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 likewise value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 mean it lacks significance. Maybe 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 likewise value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.