It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless 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 typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, 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 another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
