It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as 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—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point 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 classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
