It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, 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 anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside 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 version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
