It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
