It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency 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 might 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 own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear 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 pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits 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 impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
