It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—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 mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return 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 reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
