It is good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed 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 time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK 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 many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating 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 occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
