It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers 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 was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
