It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
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: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave 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 appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
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. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
