It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. 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 likewise appreciate less talk.
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.