It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
