It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home 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 typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea 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 enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.