It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond 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 value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
