It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
