🔗 Share this article Male Connections Form One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 mostly older men. His lengthy observation 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—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 mostly older men. His lengthy observation 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—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter. Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words? It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words? The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.