It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying 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 study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights 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 acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
