It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are 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? Why haven'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 innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal 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—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.