It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, 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 come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered 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 naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
