🔗 Share this article Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women? It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year 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 centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year 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 centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words? This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.