It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 predominantly older men. His four-year observation 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 activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
