It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity 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 while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state 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, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet 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 bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred 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—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
