It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
