It's good to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled 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 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 detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly 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 Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
