It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy 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 hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable 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This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.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 young children play—alongside 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 imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
