It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely 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 see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
