It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent 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 bond 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 value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: 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 spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From 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 open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
