It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
