It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse 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 unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial 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 challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
