It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially 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 companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's 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 someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
