It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem 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 ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must 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.
Elara Vance is a luxury travel expert with over a decade of experience exploring exclusive destinations worldwide.
Arthur Perry
Arthur Perry