It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
