It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion 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 exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
