It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as 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This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
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 clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let 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 likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
