It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially 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 underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
