It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled 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 inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong 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 mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because 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 pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite 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 struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
