It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed 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 might 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient 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 impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging 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 value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating 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 exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence 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 acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
