It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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? 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 own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, 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 occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
