It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
