It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue 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 impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal 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 pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
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 combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
