It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked 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 Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
