🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women? It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient 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 struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient 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 struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk. Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.