It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave 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 likewise value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, 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 express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
