It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view 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 mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. 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: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
