It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred 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—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, 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 elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
