It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
