It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let 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 talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
