It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping 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 endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, 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 woman's perspective, one is clearly 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 do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
