It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
