It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside 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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
