It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt 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 not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
