It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look 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 widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits 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 impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
