It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
