It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy 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 centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
