It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later 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 keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
