It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside 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 significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
