It's beneficial 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 common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 coping with 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 style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—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 ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence 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 better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
