It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths 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 mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
Elara Vance is a visual culture critic and curator with a passion for exploring how art intersects with modern society.