It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty 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 widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly 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 ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion 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 exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply 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 continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
