It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we 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 many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient 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 closeness 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 stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
