It is good to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events 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 often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—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?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
