It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal 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 activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
