It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly 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 worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let 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 also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
