It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency 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 time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
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 clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
