It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let 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 likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
