It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, 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 caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, 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 walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
