It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
