I have a friend named Gerry. Being his friend wasn’t really a choice I made—when Gerry decides you’re his friend, you don’t get much say in the matter. He calls, he invites, he emails. If you don’t answer, can’t make it, or cancel plans, he doesn’t mind. He just keeps reaching out. The man is relentless in his mission to connect.
And you know what? Gerry has a lot of friends.
In a world where men face unprecedented loneliness, Gerry is a rare exception: a man who actively works on his friendships. It makes me wonder why he’s so unusual.
Gerry is 85, which makes him 36 years older than me. One weekend, he invited me to his cottage along with several other friends, most of them around his age. After dinner, as a kind of parlor game, they went around the room offering me advice as the younger person at the table—though I’m not exactly young myself. Most of their suggestions came down to the fact that I’ll need more money in the future than I have now, which I already knew.
Gerry’s advice seemed less pragmatic at first but turned out to be far more practical, and it’s stuck with me ever since: “Never lose a friend.”
What if, instead of treating your social life as something you simply exist in, you treated it as something you build?
When I later asked Gerry what he meant, he told me a story about a man we both knew—someone who, to put it bluntly, was an asshole. They were having a random political argument that grew increasingly heated, and the other guy finally said, “I don’t think we can talk anymore. We’re too far apart.”
Gerry refused to let him end the friendship.
“I’m going to call this week, and I’m going to call next week, and I’m going to call the week after,” he said. “You can answer or not, but I’m going to call.”
That’s what I mean when I say you don’t have much choice about being Gerry’s friend. And his wisdom was truly life-changing for me. What if you took full responsibility for your own social life? What if, instead of treating it as something you inhabit, you treated it as something you create?
At this point, writing about the dangers of loneliness feels like writing about the dangers of smoking. Everyone already knows. The evidence is overwhelming; the debate is long over.
Still, there’s a whole industry dedicated to describing male loneliness and its damaging effects. One estimate suggests that being lonely has as much impact on your lifespan as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. Social isolation increases the risk of premature death by 29%. A 2024 survey found that only 27% of men had six or more close friends, compared to 55% in a 1990 survey. Today, about 17% of men say they have no close friends at all.
Researchers have been trying to pinpoint the cause of this growing loneliness since Robert Putnam published Bowling Alone in 2000. The answers tend to be vague and cultural: there’s supposedly a stigma against male intimacy, and in the exhausting world of late capitalism, men don’t have the time or energy for friendships.
At least, that’s the idea.
If there’s a secret to life, it’s connecting with others.
The directors of the Harvard Study of Adult Development—a study that began in 1938 and is one of the most methodologically sound sociological investigations ever conducted—examined the lives of a wide range of men from diverse backgrounds and reached one powerful conclusion. “It’s the longest in-depth longitudinal study on human life ever done, and it’s brought us to a simple and profound conclusion,” they wrote in 2023. “Good relationships lead to health and happiness.”
It really is that simple. If there’s a secret to life, it’s bonding with others.
Loneliness is so harmful because human beings are social animals. The need for community, for a circle of friends, is fundamental to our nature. Today, people are turning to chatbots for therapy and companionship. That’s like drinking saltwater to quench your thirst.We all feel a deep thirst for connection. Simply imitating social norms isn’t enough. Face-to-face interaction is essential to being human—it’s not optional. If you ignore this need, you’ll pay the price.
You already sense this truth. Men feel it instinctively. So why aren’t there more people like Gerry? Why don’t men put effort into their friendships?
One reason friendships among men struggle is the persistent idea that they should form naturally. Making an effort feels like it cheapens the bond. We’re taught that connection should be effortless, so deliberately seeking social interaction can seem awkward or even pitiful. Men often pretend they don’t need others because admitting that need feels like showing weakness.
But every human need can make us look a little foolish. Think about exercise in the 1960s and 70s—it seemed absurd and contrived. Why would anyone choose to exhaust themselves? In 1968, a runner in Connecticut was arrested for “illegal use of a highway by a pedestrian.” That same year, the New York Times poked fun at the growing trend, noting that most joggers were middle-aged people too old for psychedelics and too young for Medicare.
Jogging became popular in the 60s because society demanded it. As farm labor declined sharply—down 37% in the 1950s and another 38% in the 1960s—physical activity was no longer built into daily life. People realized their bodies required movement.
If you don’t move, you’ll suffer. Exercise is about 1.5 times more effective at treating mild-to-moderate depression, stress, and anxiety than any other treatment. Most of us accept this now.
Social connection, like physical activity, used to happen organically: through large families, school, camp, college, factories, religious communities, and local clubs. Finding solitude was once the challenge; now, finding genuine connection is.
Modern life—with the internet, social media, and remote work—has stripped away those chance encounters. It’s no wonder loneliness is on the rise.
Just like exercise, intentional socializing isn’t complicated—the hard part is mustering the will to do it. When I meet someone I like, I suggest drinks or organize gatherings. If plans fall through, I don’t take it personally. I have one friend who cancels last-minute more often than not, but I just reschedule.
I’m trying to be like Gerry. When I like someone, they don’t have much say in the matter.
So how did Gerry become so skilled at friendship? “I’m not going to say I’m so great at it,” he told me. “I’ve always kept in touch, but I never wanted to be the class secretary.”
For him, what seems foreign to many young men came naturally, fueled by his curiosity. “There’s nothing more interesting than people. Even those who seem unremarkable on the surface—if you share a meal, you discover everyone has a story. The least obvious people often have the best ones. Sharing stories builds intimacy, and it doesn’t have to be confidential—they’re just your stories. Life is full of different levels of trust.”
Let me be clear: this isn’t about networking. The value of a social life isn’t about what you can get out of it.To advance your career through various connections, that’s the purpose of LinkedIn. Its value lies in the contacts themselves. Sometimes, just being around someone whose company you enjoy is sufficient, but it can also lead to significant benefits.
For instance, if Gerry needs information on Canadian literature or the latest gossip about a journalist, he simply calls me, and I fill him in. He has a go-to person like me for every topic. If there’s a legal dispute, he contacts a former supreme court justice who’s a friend. He likely knows someone who’s an expert on the Asian bond market too. Although Gerry and I don’t share many political views, he’s immune to misinformation because his network connects him directly to the facts.
Now, let’s hear about your worst first date experiences.
I believe friends from different generations are especially valuable. You can gain insights from older or younger men that aren’t available elsewhere. From older friends, I’ve learned that no one over 75 should hold power and that, beyond a certain age, there’s no such thing as an unhappy widow. My younger friends, on the other hand, keep suggesting I see a therapist, which is thoughtful of them.
I should mention that I don’t consider myself skilled at socializing—I’m no Gerry. It’s similar to when I started running: I’d run a bit, walk a bit, then run again. My lungs ached, and it felt awkward. Conscious socializing is the same; initially, it’s irritating and can be humiliating when you ask for people’s time and get turned down. But then it starts to feel good, you notice the positive effects, it becomes a cherished part of your day, and eventually, a necessity for maintaining your sanity.
Of course, there are regular embarrassments, just like with exercise. Sometimes when I drag myself out for a run, a fit 20-year-old sprints past me. I don’t judge myself or others; I’m working at my own pace. Everyone has their limits and preferences. As with most important things, 90% of it is just showing up.
I’ve found that embarrassment fades quickly, and the benefits far outweigh any stigma. As a jogger told the New York Times in 1968, “At first you think everyone is staring at you—and they are. After a while, you enjoy jogging so much that you don’t give a damn.” The mockery of jogging eventually died out along with those who ridiculed it.
Gerry says, “Not everyone I want to have lunch with wants to have lunch. They don’t like me. They find me annoying. Whatever.” Rejection doesn’t stop him; he advises, “Make the effort. Get out there. Be open. Join a club. Attend a book launch. Say hello to someone you don’t know and ask about them. People are always interested in those who show interest in them.”
That last point seems key to Gerry’s success. It’s hard not to enjoy the company of people who enjoy yours.
In 2016, the UK government ran a year-long Commission on Loneliness. Its report was honest: the government can’t do much. Loneliness often feels like an uncontrollable, vague force, a sign of social breakdown beyond anyone’s influence.
The main solution is for men to take charge of their social lives, just as they do with their fitness. Gyms are full of men working out because they know it leads to better health, attractiveness, and happiness. Similarly, tackling loneliness requires a conscious effort in socializing, like Gerry does. Loneliness isn’t unsolvable; it just needs to be addressed.
If you’re lonely, are you making an effort? Are you putting in the work? Bro, are you even trying to make friends?
Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a helpful and clear list of FAQs about making more friends and improving your social life inspired by the wisdom of an 85yearold
General Questions Getting Started
1 Whats the main lesson from your 85yearold friend Gerry
The main lesson is that making friends is a skill built on genuine curiosity consistency and a willingness to put yourself out there no matter your age
2 I feel awkward in social situations Where do I even start
Start small Gerrys advice is to focus on one person at a time Instead of trying to be interesting be interested Ask a simple question like How was your day and really listen to the answer
3 Is it really possible to make new friends as an adult
Absolutely Gerry proves that friendship isnt just for school or work Its about creating new connections through shared activities hobbies and a positive open attitude
Benefits Mindset
4 What are the benefits of having a more active social life
A richer social life can reduce loneliness boost your happiness provide emotional support and even improve your physical and mental health
5 How do I get over the fear of being rejected
Gerrys perspective is that not every interaction will lead to a friendship and thats okay See it as practice A no isnt a reflection of your worth it just means that particular connection wasnt the right fit
6 Whats the most important quality for making friends
Consistency Its not about grand gestures Its about showing up regularly whether its at a local coffee shop a book club or a community garden so people get to know your friendly face
Practical Tips Strategies
7 Whats a simple first step I can take this week
Find one recurring local event and commit to going twice It could be a trivia night a walking group or a volunteer opportunity The goal isnt to make a friend on day one but to become a familiar presence
8 How do I turn a casual acquaintance into a friend
Follow Gerrys lead make a small lowpressure invitation After chatting with someone a few times say Im going to check out that new bakery would you like to join me or I usually
