It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—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 version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need 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 combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
