It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let 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 appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
