🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women? It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours. The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.