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. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"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This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.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 disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let 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 value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made 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 elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
