It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency 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 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 own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong 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 struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—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 idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
