🔗 Share this article Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women? It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend 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? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state 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 exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, 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 happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates 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. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words? The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend 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? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state 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 exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, 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 happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates 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. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words? The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.