It's good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, 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 isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
