It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching 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 four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value 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 reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible 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 more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
