It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
