It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year 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—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean 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 likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
