It's good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride 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 concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping 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 Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
