It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled 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 while? Why haven'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 typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. 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 verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
