It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet 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 bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
