It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter 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 consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told 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 elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the 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 fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
