It is good to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
