It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised 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 underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
