It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
