It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally 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, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true 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 articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
