It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits 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 predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger 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 soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older 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. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way 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 fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
