It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency 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 while? How come they didn't they asked 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 closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the 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, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
