It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women 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 come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—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 preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction 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 looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding 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—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
