It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend 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 inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
Elara Vance is a tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering AI, cybersecurity, and emerging technologies across Europe.