It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
Maya is an avid hiker and nature photographer who shares her experiences exploring Canada's national parks and trails.