It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
