It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight 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 revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, 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 evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps 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 value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
