It's good to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, 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, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short 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 struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to 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. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered 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 obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights 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. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
