Your Friends Don’t All Have to Be the Same Age

When you think of your closest friends, who comes to mind? Perhaps the college roommate you used to confide in while the two of you lay on your twin beds. Maybe the co-worker from your first job with whom you’d debrief and laugh after every meeting, or the neighbor you played with as a child. Regardless of how you met these people, they likely have one key thing in common: They’re all roughly the same age as you.

Most Americans don’t seem to have much age diversity in their friendships. A 2023 study found that, for a group of young adults ages 21 to 30, more than 80 percent of the people in their social circles, not counting relatives, were born within five years of them. Even looking at a broader age range, nearly 63 percent of adults don’t have any close friends who are at least 15 years older or younger than them, according to a 2019 AARP survey. Spending our time with such a narrow group of people can fuel age segregation and isolate us—a concerning prospect at a moment when almost a fifth of American adults say they feel lonely for much of the day. These limitations also keep us from other generations’ perspectives and potentially surprising points of connection. Younger pals can be a reminder of past selves; older friends can offer a glimpse into the future. Having fun with someone decades older or younger than you can take off the pressure to “act one’s age,” whatever that means. We should all make more friends of different generations.

Unfortunately, forming these kinds of friendships is particularly hard today. Throughout the mid-19th century, Americans interacted with folks of different ages much more frequently. Schools were not organized by grade, so kids got used to making both older friends and younger friends early on. Across industries, children worked alongside adults, who for the most part labored as long as they were healthy enough to do so. Plus, attending church was far more common, and people shared pews with babies and grandparents alike. But beginning in the mid-1800s, much of this changed: Classrooms became separated by age, and, with the rise of secondary schools in the following decades, teens delayed their entry into the workforce. Later on, federal child-labor laws (which indisputably benefited children) and measures that enabled older adults to retire made the workplace more age-stratified. By the mid-20th century, a network of senior communities had sprung up, attracting many elderly residents. Meanwhile, starting in the 1960s, participation in organized religious groups began to decline. Now the U.S.’s age segregation is stark. Given these societal structures, it’s not hard to see why fewer intergenerational friendships form.

Read: Do yourself a favor and go find a ‘third place’

With that said, if you keep an open mind, you might be surprised by the bonds you can develop. Catherine Elliott O’Dare, a social-policy professor at Trinity College Dublin who has studied intergenerational friendship, told me that many of the people she’s spoken with met their older or younger friends through arts clubs, sports teams, professional societies, or other organized groups. The AARP survey found that people met at church or were neighbors, but that work is the most common place for intergenerational friendships to start; many of us spend a large portion of our waking hours there, after all. And although a hierarchical setting might initially inhibit a bond, especially between junior and senior employees, the connections can become more equal down the line. This can be true of other stratified environments too: Asher Ramras, a 36-year-old hospitality worker in Seattle, told me that he forged a close friendship with his former middle-school art teacher after graduation. When he visited her, they practiced pottery, talked about their lives, and found common interests.

Indeed, intergenerational relationships tend to be mutually enriching. In programs that run preschools out of senior centers, letting the young and the old spend time together during the day, all parties see improved health and well-being. To better understand these types of connections, Elliott O’Dare interviewed almost two dozen people over 65 who had a friend at least 15 years younger or older than them. They told her about the practical help—with new technology, for instance—their younger friends offered. Separately, Dawn Carr, a sociology professor at Florida State University who studies aging, told me that making younger friends could help older people find meaningful ways to spend their retirement; they might get involved in youth-led social movements. Others might find joy in exposure to new ideas. Moreover, many told Elliott O’Dare that their younger friends helped them feel younger—in these relationships, they could resist stereotypes about how older people “should” behave. One man joked that he didn’t want to leave the pub early just because he’s a senior—and with younger companions, he didn’t have to.

Read: The puzzling gap between how old you are and how old you think you are

The seniors Elliott O’Dare spoke with also cared about helping their youthful counterparts. One woman told Elliott O’Dare that her life experiences prepared her to counsel a younger friend with depression. Another used her familiarity with buying a house to help her friend do the same. And young adults might appreciate the hard-earned lessons of someone older. Panyin Pobee, a 32-year-old project manager in Manhattan, told me that when he talked with people his own age about looking for a new job, he found himself stuck in a cycle of swapping grievances. But his friend, a 48-year-old former colleague, knew the industry and had been in a similar situation when she was younger, and was thus able to offer concrete advice. “Talking to people that have lived through their own … climactic events and are far past them, it’s easier to see that there is a light at the end of the tunnel,” Pobee said. In all of his relationships with older folks, he’s also felt more free to share elements of his identity that have changed. Whereas his college buddies know a “very specific version” of him—and won’t always let him step out of that role—his older friends recognize that personal growth is “just part of life,” he told me.

Older friends also offer more examples of what growing up can look like. Many people assume that their future life will resemble that of their parents, Carr told me. But she encourages young people to push back against that line of thinking: One or two caregivers is a very small sample size. If someone’s parents are the only older people they know intimately, they might not be able to visualize other possibilities. A greater pool of older friends and mentors can help people create their own blueprint.

The age stratification of American culture doesn’t just keep potential friends apart and contribute to workplace discrimination; it also confines people to a narrow worldview. A society that mingles more freely across generations would be less lonely and less ageist. It would also free people to pursue life as they choose—whether that means knitting with a friend four decades their senior or closing down the pub into their 80s.