It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain 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 while? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient 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 closeness developed 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 stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred 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 simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
