It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no 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 many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
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 evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. 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 presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, 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, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
