It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired 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 deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem 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 exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying 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 contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that 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 vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal 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 simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
