It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value 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This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
