It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked 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 encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly 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 endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short 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 closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside 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 mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling 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 exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: 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—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
