It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per 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 northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
