It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits 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 developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly 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 ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out 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 everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
