It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass 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 while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised 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 underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, 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 express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
