It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short 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 mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
