It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; 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, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
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—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
