It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, 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 unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged 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 worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling 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 exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
