It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events 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 center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
