It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe 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 also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic 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 difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
