It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal 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 simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
