It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
