🔗 Share this article Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women? It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that 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 classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express 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 deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests. Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that 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 classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right? From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours. What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express 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 deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room. The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.