It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless 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 own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially 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This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
