🔗 Share this article Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women? It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged 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 emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—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 imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered 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, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words? It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one. Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged 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 emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated. This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—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 imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter. Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right? From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether. Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered 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, but without ever naming the obvious issue. The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words? It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words? This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.