It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
