🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women? It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective 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 developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter. Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective 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 developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter. Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.