🔗 Share this article Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea 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 appreciate less talk. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea 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 appreciate less talk. Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.