It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value 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This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive 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 readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
