It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private 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 over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic 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 distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.