It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. 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 see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let 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 also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
