🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women? It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage 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, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage 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, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly. What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.