It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside 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. Maybe we should leave 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 chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly 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 more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
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 was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. 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, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
