It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone 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 decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
