It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing 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 intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly 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 worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, 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This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.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 disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
