It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
