It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency 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 while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; 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, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage 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, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
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. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express 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 still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. 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 caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
