It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
