It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; 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 permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 likewise value less talk.
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. 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 normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
A tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering consumer electronics and digital innovation across Europe.