It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. 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 likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. 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?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
