It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying 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 four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly 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 significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
