🔗 Share this article Male Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women? It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked 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 verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody. Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk. Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours. The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked 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 verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words? This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words? The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.