It's good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
