It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common 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 time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value 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This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. 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 company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
