🔗 Share this article Male Bonds Develop Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women? It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; 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, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Merit 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 studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, 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 another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; 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, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one. Reconsidering the Merit 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 studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether. Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, 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 another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.