It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. 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 hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly 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 activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
