It is good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles 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 dealing with 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 form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy 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 activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
