It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised 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 underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because 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 vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
