It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending 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This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
