It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation 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—"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.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let 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 also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
