It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told 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 verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
