It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, 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 mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion 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 reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, 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 someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
