It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women 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 return 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on 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 distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
