🔗 Share this article Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women? It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass 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 time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.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 evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered 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 Need Words? This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass 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 time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," 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 evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right? As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered 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 Need Words? This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.