🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women? It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let 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 appreciate less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply 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. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let 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 appreciate less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply 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. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.