It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return 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 inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at 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, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
