It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain 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 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits 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 closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly 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This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. 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 keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
