It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching 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 observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly 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. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently 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 at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger 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 "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares 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 different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
