Let’s talk about male friendship—the kind of connection that hums beneath the surface, something deep and ancient, the kind that we sense but don’t talk about enough. Among men, there’s so often this yearning inside, a quiet whisper in our bones for connection that goes beyond the surface level stuff—beyond the “Hey, how’s it going?” and the shoulder pats. It’s something a lot of us want but can’t always find the words for.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my own friendships. Some of my closest friends are going through things that feel too heavy for casual conversation. One of my best friends is facing mental health issues. Another is struggling to rebuild his life after a marriage breakdown. Others have wrestled with financial challenges or health issues of their own. And yet, while we’ve become pretty good at raising a glass to celebrate promotions or work wins, we aren’t as great at digging into the hard stuff. We often stay on the surface when, deep down, I think we all want to go further, to offer real support and connection.
At the same time, it’s a complex moment to talk about men’s experiences. Let’s be honest: this isn’t exactly the “year of the man.” Society is questioning and rethinking traditional ideas of masculinity, and many men feel uncertain or cautious as they navigate these changes. While this shift is essential for fostering greater equality and inclusivity, it can also feel confusing for men who are trying to understand how they fit into a world that’s rapidly evolving.
Men need connection, vulnerability, and support now more than ever. But somewhere along the way, we got the message that men aren’t supposed to need these things.
But despite the awkwardness, men are struggling. And we can’t afford to overlook that. The stats on male mental health are alarming. In the U.S., men are nearly four times more likely to die by suicide than women, according to the CDC. A 2020 study found that only about one-third of men with a mental health condition actually seek treatment. Globally, the World Health Organization (WHO) reports similar trends, with men being less likely to reach out for mental health support. Men are often told to “man up” or “push through,” when in reality, they’re experiencing incredibly difficult mental health challenges, and often facing them alone.
The numbers highlight something essential: Men need connection, vulnerability, and support now more than ever. But somewhere along the way, we got the message that men aren’t supposed to need these things.
The crisis of connection among men
There’s incredible work by Dr. Niobe Way, a developmental psychologist who has spent years listening to boys talk about their friendships. When boys are young, they form deep, emotionally rich connections with each other. They’re vulnerable, open, and honest. They say things like “I love him” without hesitation. It’s raw. It’s beautiful. It’s real.
But then something happens. Around adolescence, society steps in and says, “Hey, you’re a man now. Time to toughen up.” Dr. Way calls this the “crisis of connection.” Boys start to believe that to be a man is to be distant, emotionally self-sufficient, and a little cold. They push away from friendships that once meant the world to them.
Geoffrey Greif, in his book Buddy System, talks about how men shift into activity-based friendships — golfing buddies, work colleagues — but those deep, emotionally supportive friendships? They fade away. And it’s not because men don’t want them. It’s because they’ve been told they’re not supposed to need them.
Dr. Ronald Levant’s concept of the "male code" is this unspoken set of rules that tells men how to act: Don’t cry. Don’t show weakness. Don’t rely on anyone. Be tough. Be independent.
Barriers to emotional vulnerability in male friendships
Now, let’s talk about the barrier to vulnerability in male friendship. Dr. Ronald Levant’s concept of the "male code" is this unspoken set of rules that tells men how to act: Don’t cry. Don’t show weakness. Don’t rely on anyone. Be tough. Be independent. You’ve heard it, right? It’s everywhere, and it’s killing us.
Robert Garfield, in his book Breaking the Male Code, says that many men live within this box, where emotional suppression is the norm, and connection is sacrificed at the altar of stoicism. It’s not just that men don’t want to be vulnerable—they’ve been taught to fear it. To feel is to be weak. To need is to be dependent. And men are supposed to be invincible, right?
The power of emotional intimacy in male friendship
But what if we flipped the script? What if we broke through this male code and allowed ourselves to feel and connect again? Geoffrey Greif talks about different types of male friendships — activity friends, close friends, and somewhere-in-between friends. The thing is, all these friendships can be rich and deep, but only if we allow vulnerability to enter the room.
Dr. Robert Garfield gives us a roadmap for this. He says that men need to show up emotionally for each other. Not just with a beer and casual conversation, but with their whole selves. It’s about being seen, admitting fears, and confessing that we don’t have it all together. That’s where the magic happens.
Emotional intimacy isn’t about sitting around a campfire sharing deepest fears—though that works, too. It’s about honesty. Letting someone into the parts of life you usually keep hidden. In that vulnerability, deeper, richer friendship takes root.
Redefining masculinity: A path to deeper friendships
Andrew Reiner, in Better Boys, Better Men, talks about how we’re at a cultural crossroads when it comes to masculinity. The old model—the tough, emotionless, independent man—is crumbling. In its place? A new kind of masculinity that embraces vulnerability, leans into emotional openness, and celebrates connection.
Real strength isn’t about going it alone. It’s about community, connection, and realizing that we’re better, and stronger, together.
This shift isn’t just about friendship. It’s about how we live as men. Richard Reeves, in Of Boys and Men, talks about how society is changing and men’s roles are evolving. Real strength isn’t about going it alone. It’s about community, connection, and realizing that we’re better, and stronger, together.
The future of male friendships
So, how do we take this knowledge and change the way we show up in friendships? It starts with one thing: vulnerability. It takes courage to say, “I’m struggling,” or “I don’t have it all figured out,” or even, “I love you, man.”
And if a friend is struggling, it also takes courage to really show up. Robert Garfield offers practical ways—be present, listen without judgement, create space for realness. And when you do that? The friendship deepens. The connection grows. Suddenly, you’re no longer walking through life alone.
Male friendship doesn’t have to be shallow or surface-level. And it certainly doesn’t have to be defined by an outdated version of masculinity that says men don’t feel or need. We do feel. We do need each other. When we embrace that, when we let go of the male code and step into vulnerability, we find something extraordinary on the other side.