It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
