It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
