It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths 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 bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into 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—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
