It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation 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 quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating 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 seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
