🔗 Share this article Male Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women? It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. 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 company of others who also appreciate less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. 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 company of others who also appreciate less talk. Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words? This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.