It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to pass 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering 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 researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe 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 obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
