It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common 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 time? How come they didn'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 often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion 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 surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, 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 much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
