It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
