It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend 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 own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue 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 bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—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 ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
