It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend 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? 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 often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to 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 significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
