It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation 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 visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite 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 noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
