It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe 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 likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems 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 notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
