Psychology says the average American man over 60 has fewer than 2 close friends — and the reason has nothing to do with personality and everything to do with how boys were taught to define closeness

When I first read that the average American man over 60 has fewer than two close friends, I had to double-check the research. But the numbers don't lie, and they paint a stark picture of male loneliness that has nothing to do with being antisocial or difficult to get along with.

The real culprit? It's how generations of boys were taught that friendship means doing things together rather than actually connecting emotionally. And now, decades later, we're seeing the consequences play out in retirement communities, empty nest homes, and quiet Sunday afternoons across America.

What really gets me is that this isn't about personality flaws or character defects. The nicest, most outgoing men I know struggle with this same issue. It's a systemic problem rooted in how we've traditionally defined male closeness, and it's time we talked about it.

1. The shocking decline in male friendships

Here's a statistic that stopped me in my tracks: according to Martin Armstrong, a data journalist, "In 1990, 55% of men reported having at least six close friends. Today, fewer than three in ten say the same."

Think about that for a moment. We're talking about a massive shift in just three decades. While technology has supposedly made us more connected than ever, men's actual close friendships have plummeted.

The problem intensifies as men age. Work friendships fade after retirement. Kids move away. The activities that once brought men together become harder to maintain. And suddenly, at a time when connection matters most, many men find themselves profoundly alone.

I remember talking to a neighbor who'd just retired after 40 years at the same company. "I realized I don't actually know how to make friends anymore," he told me. "At work, friendships just happened. Now? I have no idea where to start."

2. Activity versus authenticity

Growing up, boys learn that friendship happens on the basketball court, in the garage working on cars, or during fishing trips. The focus is on doing, not feeling. Men bond shoulder-to-shoulder, not face-to-face.

This isn't inherently wrong. Shared activities create genuine connections. But when activity becomes the only acceptable way to connect, men miss out on the deeper emotional bonds that sustain friendships through life's changes.

I learned this lesson myself when I transitioned from finance to writing. In my analytical world, relationships were transactional.

We solved problems together, achieved goals together, but rarely shared our struggles or fears. It wasn't until I started exploring psychology that I realized I'd been performing friendships rather than experiencing them.

The tragedy is that when the activities stop, so do the friendships. When you can no longer play golf, work on projects, or meet for beers after work, what's left? If the foundation was only activity, often nothing remains.

3. The vulnerability barrier

Boys are taught early that vulnerability equals weakness. Don't cry. Man up. Keep your problems to yourself. These messages, repeated throughout childhood and reinforced in adulthood, create an invisible barrier to genuine connection.

What strikes me most is how this plays out in older men's lives. They've spent decades perfecting the art of appearing strong and self-sufficient. Asking for help, sharing fears, or admitting loneliness feels like betraying everything they were taught about masculinity.

I had to unlearn this belief myself, though from a different angle. In my corporate days, I thought asking for help meant weakness in relationships. It took years to understand that vulnerability isn't the same as being vulnerable to harm. There's strength in admitting you need people.

The result of this vulnerability barrier? Men often have plenty of acquaintances but few people they can really talk to. They know dozens of guys but can't name someone to call at 2 AM when life falls apart.

4. The retirement reality check

Retirement hits men's social circles particularly hard. Matthew E. Brashears, an author studying social connections, notes that "The number of close friendships Americans have appears to have declined considerably over the past several decades."

For men who built their identities around work, retirement removes not just a paycheck but a primary source of social interaction. The water cooler conversations, lunch meetings, and after-work gatherings suddenly vanish.

Without the natural structure work provides, many men struggle to maintain existing friendships or create new ones. The skills needed to build adult friendships outside of work contexts were never developed because they never had to be.

I've watched this happen repeatedly. Successful, sociable men who thrived in professional settings find themselves isolated once the office backdrop disappears. They have the time for friendship now but lack the framework they're used to.

5. Redefining male closeness

So what's the solution? It starts with expanding our definition of what male friendship can look like. Connection doesn't always need an activity as an excuse. Sometimes it's just talking. Sometimes it's admitting you're struggling. Sometimes it's reaching out without having a "reason."

Making friends as an adult requires intentional effort and vulnerability, something I discovered firsthand when I left my analytical career. You have to put yourself out there, risk rejection, and invest time in relationships that might not work out.

For older men, this might mean joining groups focused on connection rather than just activity. Book clubs, discussion groups, volunteer organizations where conversation is part of the experience. It means learning to share not just what you did today but how you felt about it.

The good news? Small changes make a big difference. One phone call to an old friend. One honest conversation about something that matters. One admission that you miss having close friends. These tiny acts of courage can rebuild connections that have atrophied over the years.

Final thoughts

The friendship crisis among older American men isn't about personality defects or social inadequacy.

It's the predictable outcome of teaching boys that real friendship happens through shared activities rather than shared emotions, that needing others is weakness, and that men connect best when they're focused on something other than connection itself.

Breaking these patterns isn't easy, especially after decades of reinforcement. But recognizing the problem is the first step. Understanding that loneliness isn't a personal failing but a cultural inheritance can free men to seek the deeper connections they've always needed but were never taught to create.

The men in your life probably won't bring this up themselves. That's part of the problem. But maybe sharing this article, starting this conversation, or simply reaching out can begin to bridge the gap. Because everyone deserves close friends, especially in the years when we need them most.