🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women? It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 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 intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 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 intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.