🔗 Share this article Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women? It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired 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 encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired 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 encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter. Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right? As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue. The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words? The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.