It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
