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. These women are puzzled by the common male habit 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because 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—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling 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 reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
