🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless 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 managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study 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 activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless 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 managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study 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 activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words? It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.