It is good to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired 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 deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits 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 forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea 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 enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
