It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing 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 model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
