It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound 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 version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps 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 likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
