It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. 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 likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive 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 happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. 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, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way 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 someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
