It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners 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 with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly 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 mean it lacks value. Perhaps 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 also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion 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 reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female 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 sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly 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: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights 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 persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
