A guy who teaches
philosophy at an Australian university tells students on the first day of class
that "you are not entitled to your opinion." That's a declaration on the way to teaching
argumentation.
Professor Stokes
contends that "I'm entitled to my opinion" is "all too often
used to shelter beliefs that should have been abandoned. It becomes shorthand for 'I can say or think
whatever I like.'" That, in turn,
he says, implies that contesting the opinion is disrespectful. He points out that to say, "I'm entitled
to my opinion" is a logical fallacy:
"An opinion is a view or judgement about something. So, by definition, an opinion has attached to
it a certain degree of uncertainty or subjectivity, and using it as a defense
only works in certain situations."
You cannot argue with me if I say I don't like escargot (which I do
not). You may like it but my dislike for
it is not disputable. "But you have
all the rights to argue with me if I were of the opinion that global warming is
a hoax [which I am not]. After all,
there is overwhelming scientific evidence to show that there is very little
uncertainty in the 'opinion' that global warming is happening."
If being entitled to
your opinion simply means you have the right to express it, the statement is
trivial, Stokes says. But what it does
not mean is that your views have to be taken seriously as expressing truth when
they are baldly absurd and contrary to known facts. You can make whatever ridiculous statements
you wish but I can dismiss them quickly.
* * *
Another academic
study, of the type that, on its face, some members of Congress would call for
de-funding (except that this one was done in Germany, not the U.S.). Two researchers (from distinguished-sounding
places, the Institute for Frontier Areas of Psychology and Mental Health in
Freiburg and at the Eye Center of the Medical Center -- University of Freiburg
and the Department of Psychiatry and Psychotherapy of the Medical Center --
University of Freiburg) found that almost every participant in the study
perceived the Mona Lisa as smiling.
Subjects were given
pictures of the original, four versions with a sadder face, and four versions
with a happier face (by changing slightly the curvature of her mouth). "The original and all of the more
positive versions were perceived as happy in nearly 100 percent of the cases. The participants identified happy faces more
quickly and with a higher degree of certainty than sad faces."
One's first reaction,
of course, is "why are governments or foundations or institutions wasting
money on studying the Mona Lisa's smile?"
As is usually the case, in my experience, it isn't as silly as it
appears.
The study is
part of a larger project on perceptual processes [they] are conducting. . .
. "Our senses have only access to a
limited part of the information from our environment, for instance because an
object is partially hidden or poorly illuminated. . . . The brain then needs to use this restricted
and often ambiguous sensory information to construct an image of the world that
comes as close to reality as possible."
The Freiburg researchers are studying how healthy people perform this
perceptual construction and whether this is different in people with autism and
psychotic disorder.
I am reminded of the
time when my friend Ellen Berscheid was awarded Senator William Proxmire's
first "Golden Fleece" award (for fleecing the taxpayer on what he saw
as useless research). In that case as
well, it was a ridiculous choice. Ellen
was chastised for studying love as part of research on close
relationships. What Proxmire (and many
others) completely missed was that the findings from the research on close
relationships can be of enormous value to marriage therapists, priests and
rabbis and ministers, and probably a host of other helping professionals. So when you see headlines ridiculing
research, they aren't always accurate. Mostly not.
* * *
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel,
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.
Hamlet, Act I, Scene 3, Polonius' advice to Laertes
Last winter I wrote to
a few friends about long-term friendships.
I asked specifically if they thought there was a sex or gender difference
in the number of long-term friends that people have. My experience (which is a VERY small sample
size) suggested that males tend to retain and maintain active long-term (i.e.,
decades) friendships more than females do.
But I suspected that "datum" was a function of my sample. (By "active" I meant that you
actually SEE them in person from time to time, whether several times per year
or every year or so or even less frequently--but you DO see them from time to
time and, in addition, tend to be in periodic touch by email, Facebook,
telephone, whatever.)
I speculated that one factor that would likely have an effect would be
moving around a lot when growing up or during one's college education and early
career. For example, Pat (my former
wife) lived in several different places, each only a few years, because of her
dad's career moves. I could imagine that
kind of upbringing, especially in the day before the Internet, would have a
dampening effect on the ability to maintain long-term friendships. I, on the other hand, have basically stayed
in the same place all my life, so have active friendships that run back to
elementary school, along with ones from high school, college, graduate school,
and my lengthy career at the University.
Because I stayed in place so long, even some of my
University-job-acquired friendships are now 3-4 decades old.
As one smart-aleck
friend (male) commented in response to my informal survey, "I don't have
any reason to believe that males keep friendships longer than females. Even seems a little counter-intuitive. So research it somehow." I did "research" with my emails,
and he turned out to be right. While the
responses I received were all over the map, my experience was contradicted by
almost everyone who wrote to me. I'll
start with two faculty friends who actually know something about the research.
One of them (female)
wrote to me that I was likely quite wrong.
The hypothesis
most likely to be confirmed is that women are more likely to have long-term
friendships—or friendships of any kind—than men are. It is fairly well documented that after a
husband dies women recover faster than men do (widowers seem to be vulnerable
to death within the following 6 months—not true of widows) and the reason for
the disparity is said to be that women have more social support (e.g., friends)
than men do. Another study (a good one)
of marriages found that husbands usually only have none or only one confidant
and that confidant is their wife, whereas women have more confidants and are not
so dependent on their spouse.
There are qualifications, however.
A study with a defensible methodology—and there may not be such studies,
up to now—would have to account for "confounding factors, such as
mobility, job demands and illnesses, and so forth. It may be that all of these, when taken into
consideration, account entirely for the differences between men and women in
friendships and long-term friendships."
It may also be the case, my friend observed, that times have changed
since the studies were conducted, and "today, many more women are not only
in the work force but they also are in demanding jobs similar to those men . .
. ; because friendships take time to establish and maintain, it may be the any
sex difference found previously has evaporated."
The other faculty
friend (female) who knows something about the topic began by posing a question
to me:
Does it really
have to do with gender or does it have more to do with personality regardless
of gender? Some people because of their
personalities, I presume, value friendships more than others. When I first read your note, I found your
assumption to go against what I know about gender and families. A large body of research, particularly for our
cohort and older, indicates that it is women who are more likely to maintain
relationships. This, in fact, is a
problem for some older men because their wives/partners have been the ones who
organize social events and who maintain contact with friends and family.
My friend also raised a question that no one else did. "Will what we know of our cohort hold
for younger men and women in light of the context in which they are
experiencing childhood and adulthood?"
It's a good point; I'm seeing somewhat different patterns of interaction
and connection with my children. They
aren't old enough yet to have "long-term" friendships in the sense
that I've been using the term, but it will indeed be worth watching as the
years go by.
Another colleague and friend (female), who wouldn't claim to expertise,
nonetheless commented that "at least some research suggests that men have
fewer friends, share less with them, and rely more on their wives for
support. Women tend to have more
friends, share more personal 'stuff' with them and see them as a major source
of support. Those data are, however,
old. My personal experience is exactly
the opposite of yours."
Two other friends offered an additional factor: taking an active role in maintaining
friendships.
(male) I can’t
recall ever noting much of a gender difference, though I have noticed a wide
range among my friends over the years in the extent to which they maintain
long-term friendships. As we both know,
it does take a little effort now and then.
I’ve always just tried to apply that effort to a moderate degree,
without thinking about it too much, but I’ve noticed that others (sometimes
folks who I expected to stay in touch with) often do not seem very interested
in keeping up their end. I can think of both men and women who have shown that
sort of disinterest but have no idea about proportions.
Another (male) echoed one of my points as well as about effort.
I think much
of this has to do with living in the same place for a long period of time. Except for [military service, my wife and I]
have been in Minneapolis. So, the
opportunity to see people and maintain relationships is easier. However, I think nurturing relationships is
equally critical. [One group of friends]
has [members] who have not lived in Minneapolis for decades. However, the group has worked very hard to
stay in touch and get together on a regular basis.
My friend went on to
relate that he and his wife have similar experiences. One of his friendships dates back over 65
years and remains in place even though the friend has lived abroad for several
decades. A number of his friends date
from high school and others from different places of work over the years. Similarly, his wife has friends from grade
and high school.
I agreed: I think nurturing is a key point. If you don't give a rat's behind about
maintaining friendships, you won't have long-term friendships. For whatever reason, I do (give a rat's
behind, that is), and in the last couple of years I've even revived a couple of
friendships from 30-40 years ago that had withered for no good reason--and
we've all been pleased that I have done so.
It also occurred to me
that in the case of couples, there are pre- and post-relationship friends. In my case, since Kathy and I are a
later/second-marriage couple, we both have many friendships that pre-date our
relationship. We also have friends that
we've made together. For those who've
been married a long time, presumably the size of the group of jointly-acquired
friends will in most cases be larger than the pre-marriage group.
I had two different
opinions about the impact of moving around.
One (male) wrote to me that "I will agree that moving around
affects making and keeping friendships."
He reported that he made job moves every few years until the last part
of his career, and while they made friends at each location, those friendships
by and large didn't survive the subsequent move even though the intentions were
good. He also agreed with my faculty
friends: "I do think that women, in
general, do a much better job in staying in touch with their friends and
consequently can count many more of them."
Another (female),
however, drew on her own experience.
"I have many friends that I have stayed in contact with since high
school and then in each of the places where I have lived I have retained
regular contact with a least one person—some for over 30 years."
Then there are people,
as with one friend (female), who retained no friends from K-16 education but
has many long-term friendships, some of which began in graduate school. But she offered a caveat, given her long-term
marriage: "many of my friends are
our friends so it would be hard to separate into mine vs. [my husband's].) In this case, the couple together has many
friends both local and around the country, and many of the friendships are
decades old. "So what is my bottom
line? I think [we] have many long term
(10, 20, 30, 40, 50 year) friends that are both male and female."
She also touched on a development in friendships that is depressing but
inevitable. "The sad thing is that
we are losing some to death now. I
remember watching my folks as they aged and lost friends. It was hard, even though they made new
friends, it isn't the same. When an old
friend dies, you lose a part of your history. . . . And upon reflection: when an old friend dies, you not only lose
some of your past, but you lose some of your future too. So many adventures that won't happen."
One (male) wrote back to me that this "is a difficult
question. I really have few long-term
friends—especially if you insert the qualification 'SEE.'" He reported that he maintained no contact
with school or college classmates and really only had two people he could count
as long-term friends, and even then one was a professional colleague and one a
life-long friend of his wife. In both
cases, he added, the friendships are sustained by circumstances—professional meetings
and summer cabins. If those disappeared,
would the friendships disappear as well?
One (female) friend simply recounted from her own experiences. "I
do think there is a male/female view to this. I have in the past talked to my girlfriend
about how men don't seem to have the need for social interaction as much as
women do." She recalled that the
book Men are from Mars and Women are from
Venus claimed that "there is a difference between men and women in the
importance of a large/small social groups. Men go to an 'expert' when they have a
problem. Women go to their friends even
if they don't discuss the problem."
By that measure, I'm androgynous—I go to both! (I've always figured I should make use of the
fact that I spent my career in a research university with experts in just about
every field of knowledge!)
One relatively new
(for me) friend (female) wrote that "I have female friends that I still do
things with that I have had for 40-50 years.
I do not have any friends from my childhood that I connect with more than
a Christmas card. All friends are
college and later." She also
reported on her husband. "We both
grew up in [a small town]. [We were] at
[a] high school reunion . . . just before the 2008 election. His good friends from that era were so
homophobic (a gay couple had the courage to show up), and racist, he gave up on
them. We had a heated discussion on the
election and he has not put forth any effort in keeping in touch with
them." In the case of this couple,
the woman had the long-term friends, the man did not.
Another friend (male)
related that while he has friends from earlier in life, they are on Facebook,
"but I rarely interact with them there, and haven't seen them in person
since high school. . . . I'm most strongly
active with friends who date to my first year of grad school," starting in
August 1993. So those are just over 23
years strong. His wife "sometimes
interacts with a couple of friends from MBA school," which was fairly
recent, "and very rarely interacts with anyone she met before that. We are
very different in our friendship structures." He went on to tell me that "the two
oldest from 9th grade are men, but the majority of the rest of my oldest long
term friends are women. When [my future
wife] and I got together she initially wondered what was up with that, and was
a little worried that something romantic might be going on, but soon grew
confident that we all were just friends!"
Another (female) wrote
to me that "this is a very tough question.
I don't think I have a clue to the gender or sex differences (or lack
thereof). And then there's the conundrum
of how to define 'friends.' Someone with
whom I would have lunch once a year? Or someone who would take the day to get
me to and from cataract surgery? I'm not
a good research participant for this question since the bulk of my 'friends'
live elsewhere and we go years without seeing each other or emailing or
calling." But she still considers
them friends, so we don't even have a common definition.
"I haven't kept in touch with too many of my high-school friends,
mainly they live down South and I don't get down there much anymore,"
wrote one (female) friend. "We had
great fun together at the time and in our college years; four of my h.s. girl
friends were in our wedding. But time,
distance, experiences, and geography seem to have weakened our
bonds." [My husband] and I have
stayed in pretty close contact with a few of our college friends and we get
together every year or so for a weekend which is largely reminiscing and
discussing people we knew from college days." She went on to ask: "Did you consider whether introverts or
extroverts differ in their maintaining friendships?"
On the last question, I suspect she is right: introverts probably do far less to keep up
friendships than do extraverts. Since
it's pretty clear that women do a better job of maintaining friends than men
do, does that mean that women (in general) are more extraverted and men less
so?
Finally, one (female)
told me that "as far as long term friendships, I have to admit that I
don't have many from high school. I do
see [two of them] from time to time . . . but that's about it. We don't communicate regularly. . . . I have two female friends that I've been
close to since the mid 1990s. Of course
I have friends here in my community that I cherish. And some from church and work. But the long
term ones I can count on one hand."
As I wrote at the
outset of this disquisition, it's pretty clear that in general women more than
men value and nurture long-term friendships. Should the men who do so pat themselves on the
back?
One of my own long-time friends responded that "I think you might
get more interesting answers by framing the question a little more
broadly: for those of us who tend toward
long-term relationship maintenance, what draws us to hang onto those
connections?" Good question that I
didn't ask. I know that in my case, I
hate it when I lose a friend, except when it clearly becomes necessary or
inevitable.
(Goodness, it took me
a long time to get an "accurate" version of the quote from
Hamlet. I did not know that there are
three different versions of the play with slightly different wording, including
of the language I quoted. I had to go to
my friend and renowned Shakespeare scholar Tom Clayton to learn what wording is
most the widely accepted by people who have studied Shakespeare.)
* * *
One more piece on
friendships. Last year I came across a
phrase that was new to me: "toxic
friendships." At first blush, that
struck me as an oxymoron. The more I
read about toxic friendships, the more they struck me as an oxymoron.
The journalist who
wrote the article in Aeon, Carlin
Flora, has also written a book on friendships, so it's a topic to which she's
paid much attention. Most of us (I
hope!) have friends who understand us well, bring out our best, listen to us,
gently help us improve, with whom we share memories, by whom we are valued,
whom we admire, and with whom we are deeply satisfied. These are the friendships that "fill our
souls, and bolster and shape our identities and life paths." Research on friendships also demonstrates
that such relationships "keep us mentally and physically healthy: good friends improve immunity, spark
creativity, drop our blood pressure, ward off dementia among the elderly, and
even decrease our chances of dying at any given time."
But friendships do
contain tensions and conflicts. They can
fade for many reasons—or no reason.
There are difficult friendships, she writes, and there are "bad,
gut-wrenching, toxic friendships."
One reason friendships fade is that friends may "have, or start to
have, goals, values or habits that misalign with your current or emerging
ones. They certainly haven’t ‘done’
anything to you. But they aren’t a group
that validates who you are, or that will effortlessly lift you up toward your
aims over time." In my case, for
example, that would be people who move far to the political right or so deeply
into their religious beliefs that every act and word is overtly colored by
them.
Recent research data
provided a surprise: only roughly half
of friendships are reciprocal. Assuming
most people I know are average in this respect, including me, I wonder which among
my friends would not consider the friendship reciprocal. It's sort of an unnerving thought. But there appear to be reasons for the lack
of reciprocity that don't apply in my case or in that of many of my friends,
one of them being the phenomenon of aspirational friendships. People seek to be friends with those who have
higher social status. As I confessed in
my reflections on high school, at that point in life I had aspirational
"friendships."
Then there are "ambivalent" relationships,
"characterised by interdependence and conflict. You have many positive and negative feelings
toward these people. You might think
twice about picking up when they call.
These relationships turn out to be common, too. Close to half of one’s important social
network members are identified as ambivalent." More are family members than friends.
It is not hard for me to imagine "ambivalent" family
relationships—or, for that matter, family relationships that don't make it to
the level of ambivalent because there is no relationship whatever (the blood or
in-law link notwithstanding). I'm starting
to think I have a peculiar definition of friendship, because I would never
think twice about responding to a call from someone I count as a friend. There are people whose calls I hesitate
about, or don't take, but not from someone I consider a friend.
Flora also points out that ambivalent relationships are not good for
our health, citing studies that found people had higher blood pressure when
interacting with others with whom their relationship was ambivalent. That wasn't the case with either friends or
enemies. "Ambivalent relationships have also been associated with
increased cardiovascular reactivity, greater cellular ageing, lowered
resistance to stress, and a decreased sense of wellbeing."
Personally—and again,
it boils down to definition—I wouldn't use the term "friend" to
describe my relationship with these people.
If the relationship is ambivalent, or includes a sufficient level of
negative elements, I can't consider the person a friend. Who needs them?
Then there are the
toxic friendships. Flora noted the work
of two psychologists on the typical qualities of a bad friendship: "a bad friend makes you feel competitive
with her other friends; she talks much more about herself than you do about
yourself; she criticises you in a self-righteous way but is defensive when you
criticise her; she makes you feel you’re walking on eggshells and might easily
spark her anger or disapproval; she has you on an emotional rollercoaster where
one day she’s responsive and complimentary and the next she freezes you
out." A report out of Carnegie
Mellon found that increased negativity in relationships among healthy women
over 50 led to an increase in the risk of hypertension. There was no such increase reported for
men! Presumably this is "because
women care more about, and are socialised to pay more attention to,
relationships." However, a UCLA
researcher found that both men and women can suffer from inflammation as a
result of negative social interactions.
So even thick-headed men are affected by troubled friendships.
Flora writes that
"when a friend breaks up with us, or disappears without explanation, it
can be devastating. Even though the churning and pruning of social networks is
common over time, we still somehow expect friendships to be forever. Friendship
break-ups challenge our vision of who we are, especially if we’ve been
intertwined with a friend for many years."
Well, maybe.
"Devastating" is a strong word, almost theatrical. I've had people disappear from my life,
people with whom I thought I was a good friend, but my reaction has been
"well, OK, if they don't want to continue, no sense in me trying to do
so." It probably helps to have a
number of friends so that the disappearance of one here and there doesn't
significantly diminish one's social network.
One sociologist whom
Flora reports on says that "sometimes, we have to drop a friend to become
ourselves. . . . Ending friendships in
young adulthood is a way of advancing our identities. We construct our self-images and personalities
against our friends, in both positive and negative ways." This gets to a question that arose for
me: how much of the analysis of
friendships pertains to people over 50 or over 60 who have relationships that
have lasted for decades? If I think
about the people I count as friends, it's difficult to imagine what could
derail those friendships after all these years.
They or I would have to do something enormously and inexplicably odious
to terminate the relationship—and it's beyond my ken to contemplate my or them
doing so.
Flora concludes that
there are worse things than bad friends.
"Having no friends at all is a far worse fate. Imagine . . . an adult’s realisation that
there is no one with whom he can share a failure or even a success. Loneliness is
as painful as extreme thirst or hunger."
Research "has found associations between loneliness and depression,
obesity, alcoholism, cardiovascular problems, sleep dysfunction, high blood
pressure, the progression of Alzheimer’s disease, cynical world views and
suicidal thoughts. But if you have
friend problems, you have friends – and that means you’re pretty lucky."
Meanwhile, a Dutch
researcher has found that "you lose about half of your close network
members every seven years." Gerald
Mollenhorst was looking at the context in which social relationships develop
(e.g., "to what extent personal networks are the result of your own
preferences or the context in which you can meet someone. Would your best
friend have been your best friend if you had not been in the same class for
three years? And if you had not got to know your wife via mutual friends but in
a dodgy bar then would she still have become and remained your
wife?"). He surveyed over 1000
people aged 18-65 and then contacted them again 7 years later (and reached 604
willing participants).
What he found, among
other things, is that "personal networks are not formed solely on the
basis of personal choices [as opposed to family networks, which provide no
choice]. These choices are limited by opportunities
to meet. Another strong indication for this came from the fact that people
often choose friends from a context in which they have previously chosen a
friend." He amplified on the
findings by looking at time spent and forced interactions. An increase in both "enlarge the chance
that network members are drawn from that social context." Conversely, "a lack of forced
interactions and a small amount of time spent in a context both enlarge the
likelihood that network relationships are discontinued."
For example, one's
work setting requires both considerable time and forced interactions. A "division of labor and task
specialization" means it's easier to maintain relationships. Similarly, there are expectations about
family interactions that usually makes them more stable. Neighborhood interactions, however, may be
less frequent and are not forced, so can more readily deteriorate.
He also found a third
factor that can affect relationship continuation (or not): the ease of exit. Contexts vary on that factor; it's easier to
resign from a club or association than to change jobs or homes. The family, of course, is the most difficult
social structure to leave. (Neighborhood
seems to work both ways, but at least in my experience the lack of forced
relationship and potential infrequency of interaction trump ease of exit.)
The conclusion, not
surprising, is that we find friends in places where we spend the most time and
must interact with people. Changes in
job or location (which often go hand in hand) will frequently mean a change in
non-family social relationships. Church,
school, club, and so on are where we get our friends. Naturally, our friends thus reflect the composition
of our activity networks.
He also found—and this is contrary to research on Americans—that
"networks are not shrinking. . . .
Over a period of seven years the average size of personal networks was
found to be strikingly stable." In
the United States, Robert Putnam documented the decline in social capital, in
Bowling Alone, which reflects the decline in the size of American social
networks.
The most astonishing finding, to me, however, was that "during the
course of seven years we replace many members of our network with other people.
Only thirty percent of the discussion partners and practical helpers still held
the same position seven years later. Only
48 percent were still part of the network." The admonition of the person who wrote a
precis of Mollenhorst's work concluded "Therefore value the friends you
have. As long as you have them that is."
This finding was widely publicized at the time.
I have to wonder how much of this research is more applicable to the
younger and perhaps even the middle-aged rather than the older. I don't see, either in my own life or that of
my friends who are of the same general vintage, the turnover in close
relationships, for example. Nor do I
have many ambivalent friendships and I don't have any "toxic"
friendships that I can think of. As we head
toward the last phase of our lives, do we stay settled in relationships that
have survived the decades, unworried that they can be upset by anything short
of death?
Before I get to the
fundamental questions about long-term friendships (why do some friendships end
and some not, and why do some people have more long-term friends than others,
questions partially addressed in the responses to my original inquiry), it's
interesting to think about how many friends people have, on average. For that there is the Dunbar number. Or, more accurately, numbers.
An English
anthropologist, Robin Dunbar has spent two decades looking at social networks,
even though the genesis of the work was a study of the grooming habits of
primates. He speculated that larger brains
are a result of more complex societies and turned his attention to humans. What he concluded, looking at brain size and
group sizes, is that "judging from the size of an average human brain, the
number of people the average person could have in her social group was a
hundred and fifty. Anything beyond that would be too complicated to handle at
optimal processing levels."
The 150 represents
"casual friends," and ranges from about 100 to 200, depending on how
sociable someone is. I know people on both
ends. I'm probably about in the middle
of the range. The number then divides by
three (roughly) three times and multiplies times three twice. Here are all the numbers.
5 "your close
support group. These are your best friends (and often family members)"
15 "the circle of
fifteen: the friends that you can turn to for sympathy when you need it, the
ones you can confide in about most things"
50 Most people would say
they have about 50 close friends—"perhaps the people you'd invite to a
group dinner." They aren't true
intimates but are good friends
150 casual friends
500 acquaintances
1500 "the outside limit is
the number of people for whom you can attach a name to a face"
At first I thought 500 acquaintances was way too high, but then I
realized I could probably easily get to that number just by going around
departments at the University. The 1500,
however, is for younger people; there have been too many times, and
increasingly as the years go by, when I CANNOT any longer attach a name to a
face. I know the face, but the name
won't come until later.
Dunbar's research confirms the findings about the transience of group
members. "While the group sizes
are relatively stable, their composition can be fluid. Your five today may not
be your five next week; people drift among layers and sometimes fall out of
them altogether." I find this
strange. My closest confidants have
changed over the years, but only very slowly.
Perhaps the "next week" comment is hyperbole, but even so,
it's over years (at least for me), not weeks.
"When Dunbar consulted the anthropological and historical record,
he found remarkable consistency in support of his structure."
Some have asked whether the advent and widespread use of social media
has knocked the Dunbar numbers into a cocked hat. At least in theory, one can have many more
"friends" with Facebook, Twitter, etc. "When researchers tried to determine
whether virtual networks increase our strong ties as well as our weak ones . .
. , they found that, for now, the essential Dunbar number, a hundred and fifty,
has remained constant." Dunbar
agrees that it's an open question. It's
possible to expand the 150 to 300 or more through social media.
One issue, he points out, is that "the amount of social capital
you have is pretty fixed. . . . It
involves time investment. If you garner connections with more people, you end
up distributing your fixed amount of social capital more thinly so the average
capital per person is lower."
Another is face time; he maintains that shared experiences keep
friendships strong, and without it, "we lack deeper connections to them,
and the time we invest in superficial relationships comes at the expense of
more profound ones. We may widen our network to two, three, or four hundred
people that we see as friends, not just acquaintances, but keeping up an actual
friendship requires resources." As
a retiree, I could theoretically spend the additional time required—but there's
no way, when I was working, that I could have done so.
If we’re busy
putting in the effort, however minimal, to "like" and comment and
interact with an ever-widening network, we have less time and capacity left for
our closer groups. Traditionally, it’s a
sixty-forty split of attention: we spend
sixty per cent of our time with our core groups of fifty, fifteen, and five,
and forty with the larger spheres.
Social networks may be growing our base, and, in the process, reversing
that balance.
Dunbar has another
concern that I share, and one can argue that it's reflected in the state of
politics. There has not yet been a
generation raised on virtual interactions all the way into mature adulthood;
what will happen? Dunbar reaches no
conclusions about the impact of virtual relationships, whether they will
"prove wonderful for friendships or ultimately diminish the number of
satisfying interactions one has. 'I don’t think we have enough evidence to
argue either way.'" The concern is
that
some social
skills may not develop as effectively when so many interactions exist
online. We learn how we are and aren’t
supposed to act by observing others and then having opportunities to act out
our observations
ourselves. . .
. Dunbar fears that too much virtual
interaction may subvert that education.
"In the sandpit of life, when somebody kicks sand in your face, you
can’t get out of the sandpit. You have to deal with it, learn,
compromise," he said. "On the
internet, you can pull the plug and walk away.
There’s no forcing mechanism that makes us have to learn." If you spend most of your time online, you
may not get enough in-person group experience to learn how to properly interact
on a large scale—a fear that, some early evidence suggests, may be
materializing. "It’s quite
conceivable that we might end up less social in the future, which would be a
disaster because we need to be more social—our world has become so large."
What he didn't mention is that virtual interactions also allow less
fettering of social constraints most of us grew up with. We see that in increased nastiness in social
media, the name-calling and the bigotry; reasoned discourse—which probably
wasn't ever dominant—recedes even further.
"You can pull the plug and walk away. There’s no forcing mechanism
that makes us have to learn."
Social media also doesn't impose the limits that letter writing
does. Few would put into a letter some
of the screeds we see on the internet.
Thus increasingly polarized politics, no?
The result may be that the original Dunbar number—the 150—could shrink
rather than grow.
To end this consideration of friendships, a few of the reasons that
friendships, even long-term ones, end, drawn in part from a blog on
friendships.
-- As two of my friends
mentioned, some spend the time and energy nurturing friendships. They make an effort to stay in touch and get
together. Others may be less concerned
about letting friendships go.
-- Some are better at
communicating; when there are conflicts or misunderstandings, people who are
better at addressing problems won't lose friends as frequently as those who are
less skilled at doing so.
-- Some are better at
communicating; they are comfortable making contact.
-- Circumstances in lives
change; friendships may dissolve because people grow apart
psychologically. As mentioned before,
goals and values may change. People can
move politically or religiously and become distant as a result. I've seen this happen on several occasions.
-- Circumstances in lives
change; getting married means less time for single friends; being married and
having children can mean less time with both single friends as well as married
friends who don't have children.
-- Circumstances in lives
change; people move away to new jobs, as a couple of people mentioned, which
puts pressure on friendships with those left behind. As Dunbar observed, social capital is
limited, and maintaining solid friendships at a distance requires an
investment. I had what I thought were a
couple of good friends when I worked at 3M as a student in the early 1970s, and
after I left we made some effort to stay in touch. But the friendships nonetheless faded away.
-- Age is also a factor in
losing friends, as one of my friends pointed out; illness and disability can
reduce the ability to stay in touch (even assuming one's mental faculties
remain intact). Worst of all, friends
die off.
* * *
Several people
commented on the exchange I had with a high school classmate and took exception
to the use of the term mental illness.
"I am very careful to not to ascribe behaviors to mental illness,
even those that seem bizarre to me. I
imagine this woman is quite normal in her usual context. . . . Of course mental illness may be real, but I
think that the authorities have used the idea to suppress people and ideas that
threaten their world view."
Another friend wrote
an extremely thoughtful response that also touched on the mental illness
description.
I have a
slightly different take on the exchange than your three friends, all of whom
had the same opinion of your classmate (i.e., multi-faceted jerk, piece of work
and mentally ill, dangerous nutcase). She seems quite representative of a
larger-than-assumed class of undereducated, poor and angry non-urban Americans
who have been treated terribly badly for decades if not generations by our
country's elite and who now, through the election of our current President,
have been empowered to speak out against this mistreatment. Their black-or-white, nuance-free views of our
country, society and the world at large are built upon and indeed continually
reinforced by their poor logic and rhetoric skills, their inability to think
critically and independently, their strong religious beliefs and their blind
acceptance of those in authority (e.g., parents, teachers, religious &/or
political leaders, and conservative media).
It is
inappropriate of me to judge this woman on the basis of a few emails, which as
we all know, is not the best medium for discussion of difficult, complex
issues. I would wager however that this
woman is neither a jerk, mentally ill nor a nut case. My best guess is that she is an unhappy person
who has lived a difficult life with few joys and as a result scatter shoots her
anger at the nearest target. Which in
this case happened to be you. Unfairly of course but email has never been the
medium for a nuanced exchange of views on any complex political issue,
especially between two strangers.
The bigger
issue is how to have a decent, thoughtful and respectful conversation with
people like her, who have been emotionally scarred by life and are desperate to
identify a scapegoat (other than themselves). Liberals and progressive society are very easy
targets to blame for all their problems. How does one have a discussion with such
people? Perhaps by finding some common
ground at the beginning of the conversation and then asking questions regarding
their other beliefs. If done
respectfully without condescension bridges can be formed. Such discussions will be impossible with fanatics
and the lunatic fringe (alt-right, white supremacists, neo-nazis) however 99%
of the conservative right in our country are neither lunatics nor crazy and
should be treated with the same respect given to those who share our beliefs
and values.
I expect you
will find several of her ilk at your upcoming reunion. Hope you find common ground with some of them.
Our country's future depends on these
conversations.
I told my friend I agreed with everything he wrote—except that my
classmate didn't fit into the category of those who should be most discontented
with modern America. She is not
"undereducated" nor is she poor.
Angry, clearly. However, she and
her husband seem to be happily married and enjoy their children and
grandchildren, they are quite affluent (her husband retired in his 40s, they
have a winter home and a summer home, their kids manage the real estate company
they own—I didn't include that in the excerpts from her messages), "we had
a nice life."
I think my friend's
disquisition on the need for conversations is absolutely on the mark. I may not be in a very good position to start
one. I clearly failed in one instance.
As for "mental
illness," on the one hand, I agree that there's probably no basis for such
a diagnosis. On the other hand, I'm
prepared to argue that people whose world view is rigid, self-righteous and
condescending, infused with a certain level of paranoia, and includes no small
degree of hatred does not have a balanced mind.
I would have been glad to have an exchange with my classmate—and I tried
to do so—but it became clear that civil discourse wasn't possible. I think that she's a member of "fanatics
and the lunatic fringe" and it would be pointless to seek a
conversation. She wouldn't permit it, in
any case.
One friend came away with contempt.
Read with
interest your correspondence with the female redneck from your high-school
class—now in Idaho (Utah North)? Not
that that matters much. A Confederate or
crypto-Confederate state in any case. Utter
waste of time writing to any such twice, or even once unless you don’t know and
can’t guess whom you’re writing to, as you usually would if you knew where they
lived. . . . But what a thoroughly
odious person—like about 40%+ of the population, once past the social
pleasantries. Probably goes back to the
beginning of the country.
I suspect he's right about such attitudes going back to the
beginning. They may have been even more
prevalent then, given how few people received much of an extended education.
A different response
came from one, and I'm always grateful when a little humor is thrust into an
otherwise depressing exchange. "How
dare you try to break into her cocoon! Please
mind your manners, Gary."
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