It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As 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 initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
