It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, 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 longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal 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—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways 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. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
