It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass 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 inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
