It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass 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 while? 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 own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly 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 significance. Maybe we should let 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 appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
