Too Much of a Good Thing?

Despite the fact that philia—friendship or love—is at the very heart of the word “philosophy,” friendship has not always been a central topic of philosophers within the Western tradition. But the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle did have a great deal to say about friendship and his view is more often than not lurking in the background whenever others—such as Cicero, Montaigne, or C.S. Lewis—broach the topic.

Recognizing the central role which friends play in our lives, Aristotle offers a detailed account of what makes some friendships different from others, with an eye toward determining which friendships are best. As Aristotle sees it, every friendship falls into one of three categories:

• friendships of pleasure,

• friendships of utility, and

• the highest sorts of friendships united by something like virtue or a shared sense of the good.

Whereas friendships of pleasure form through the mutual enjoyment of some activity, friendships of utility take shape when two individuals serve each other’s advantage. Friends who enjoy playing basketball together, watching horror films, and trading comic books would be in a pleasurable friendship. Successful business partners who get along well at the office, but who rarely get together otherwise, would be friends in a utilitarian sense. For Aristotle, friendships of pleasure and utility are transient, meaning they can form rather easily but can dissolve rather easily as well. And so, most of our friendships involve an ever-changing cast of characters, the demands of adulthood making friends of pleasure more common among the young and friendships of utility more common as we age.

Now while friendships of pleasure and utility have their place, Aristotle insists that true friendship must involve more than mere enjoyment or mutual advantage. Real and lasting friendships can only be had between people whose good intentions towards one another have stood the test of time. In speaking of friendship in its truest form, Aristotle says that:

These kinds of friendships are likely to be rare, since such [good] people are few. Further, they need time as well, to grow accustomed to each other; for, as the proverb says, they cannot know each other before they have shared their salt as often as it says, and they cannot accept each other or be friends until each appears lovable to the other and gains the other’s confidence. Those who are quick to treat each other in friendly ways wish to be friends, but are not friends, unless they are also lovable, and know this. For though the wish for friendship comes quickly, friendship does not. (Nicomachean Ethics, lines 1156b25-33)

Aristotle reminds us here that friendship, or philia, is a type of love. As such, it should not be treated lightly, nor is it achieved easily. True friends regard each other as loveable, a requirement altogether lacking in the more superficial and fleeting friendships of utility and pleasure. To emphasize this point, Aristotle places philia on a pedestal as lofty as the one typically reserved for eros, arguing that “No one can have complete friendship for many people, just as no one can have an erotic passion for many at the same time;” for complete friendship, like erotic passion, “is like an excess, and an excess is naturally directed at a single individual.” Just as each of us can only be in love with one person at any given time, true friendship is of necessity exclusionary.⁴⁸ Each of us—if we are lucky—can be a part of a few deep and lasting friendships throughout the course of our lives, time alone being a significant impediment. But to what extent do these initial declarations by Aristotle coincide with Facebook practice?

According to one study, Facebook users, on average, have 281 friends.⁴⁹ Whereas some may find this number to be exceptionally high, others may take it to be surprisingly low, your reaction being dictated in large part by your familiarity with the Facebook universe. While discussing Facebook practices, a student of mine proudly asserted that she now has over 1,500 friends, a number which surprised me (currently hovering around seventy friends) much more than her fellow classmates. In fact, it seems that accumulating friends has become something of a goal for many Facebook users, as the same poll noted above also revealed that the average number of friends which people would like to have is 317.

While Aristotle is not exactly specific about how many friends we might have, certainly these numbers far exceed the upper limit, at least when it comes to friendships of the highest order. So how might we resolve this difference between ancient wisdom and contemporary practice? Do we simply write Aristotle off as some old guy from a long time ago who doesn’t know what he’s talking about? Or, in an effort to give Aristotle his due, might we say that the friendship spoken of by Aristotle is altogether different from the virtual friendships formed on sites like Facebook?

While either of these proposals might effectively explain away our problem, neither seems adequate to me. Despite the fact that Aristotle lived during a very different time in a very different place, much of what he says about friendship still rings true today, particularly when it comes to the central role which friendships play in our lives. On the other hand, what we mean by the word “friend” has obviously been affected by social networking, as the number of people who we identify as our friends has grown in leaps and bounds in the more than two millennia that have passed since Aristotle put stylus to tablet. I do believe, however, that there’s a good deal about friendship that transcends both time and technological media and that the essential elements of friendship hold as much today as they ever have or will.

The Talkative Animal

That Aristotle remains the most influential philosopher on the subject of friendship probably owes as much to where he discusses it as to what he actually says. Of Aristotle’s works, the Nicomachean Ethics has arguably had the most enduring value, dealing as it does with questions of character and our lived experience. Interestingly enough, of the ten books of the Ethics, two entire books—VIII and IX—are devoted exclusively to the subject of friendship. As such discussions rarely take place in texts devoted to ethics or morality, Aristotle’s in-depth consideration of friendship seems a bit strange until we remember that the Nicomachean Ethics, above all, focuses on the question of what constitutes the good, or happy, life.

Having already identified a virtuous character as the surest guarantee of happiness, Aristotle goes on to identify friendship as the “greatest external good,”⁵⁰ meaning that “no one would choose to live without friends even if he had all other goods.” As Aristotle sees it, we desire friends by our very nature and cannot be happy without them. Is it any wonder, then, that Facebook has become so popular as a social network? Insofar as it allows us to maintain, build, and perhaps even form friendships, Facebook speaks to a basic human desire whose potential insatiability is not lost on Aristotle. Reaching across the centuries, Aristotle states that “we praise lovers of friends, and having many friends seems to be a fine thing” (lines 1155a30-31)—an insight which is every bit confirmed by the sheer number of people friending each other even as we speak.

That we desire to have many friends is not to say that we can actually have them. We’re still left with the question of whether virtual friendships really do what friendships are supposed to do. Here again, Aristotle proves a potentially sympathetic voice. Aristotle, as you might expect from a philosopher, puts a good deal of stock in rational discourse, defining human beings as the animals who possess speech. Not surprisingly, then, he takes conversation to lie at the very heart of friendship since, without it, we cannot gain familiarity with one another and, as a result, are in no position to decide whether or not we are truly friends. Accordingly, Aristotle describes the choosing of friends as follows:

We agreed that someone’s own being is choiceworthy because he perceives that he is good, and this sort of perception is pleasant in itself. He must, then, perceive his friend’s being together [with his own], and he will do this when they live together and share conversation and thought. For in the case of human beings what seems to count as living together is this sharing of conversation and thought, not sharing the same pasture, as in the case of grazing animals. (lines 1170b8-14)

Facebook undeniably allows for the sharing of “conversation and thought.” In fact, it often allows us to discover things about our friends that we had never known before, be it their favorite novel, their stance on stem cell research, or their most cherished childhood memory. And while Aristotle does speak to the necessity of living together, Facebook’s ability to overcome the restrictions of space and time would seem to counteract what otherwise ends many a friendship. As Aristotle notes, “distance does not dissolve the friendship without qualification, but only its activity. But if the absence is long, it also seems to cause the friendship to be forgotten; hence the saying, ‘Lack of conversation has dissolved many a friendship’” (lines 1157b10-14). Given the nomadic nature of modern society made possible—dare I say inevitable—by the invention of trains, planes, and automobiles, communication technologies like the telegraph, telephone, cell phone, and now social networking sites like Facebook have established a virtual proximity that has come ever closer to mimicking the face-to-face interactions upon which friendships have traditionally thrived.

Facebook has surpassed telephones, cell phones, and email as a more natural way of communication. When I call, write, or text a friend, I must be addressing something in particular, be it going to a movie that night, organizing a surprise birthday party, or lamenting over last night’s baseball game. To call or write to a friend without anything specific in mind is to risk irritation and awkwardness, as your friend may not be at liberty to casually converse at the present moment given all the other pressing concerns in life. Facebook by and large solves this problem as it allows me to provide a window into my own world—be it what I’m doing, how I’m feeling, or what I’m thinking—in a way that does not intrude on the time or space of others, but allows them to discover these things for themselves and at their own leisure. As the most important conversations that we have with our friends do not concern the particular and mundane aspects of everyday life, Facebook conversations approximate the real world conversations which take place between friends as well as—and in some ways better than—any technological medium invented to date.

Reciprocated Goodwill

Would Aristotle, then, be a fan of Facebook? Despite its merits, the sheer number of “friends” who connect through Facebook still seems to be a big problem, and perhaps takes us to the heart of the matter: Who are all these people and what exactly are we all talking about?

Ever the realist, Aristotle does distinguish between the lesser friendships of utility and pleasure and the deeper friendships that form over many years and which are, as a result, relatively rare. Whereas the former are “coincidental, since the beloved is loved not insofar as he is who he is, but insofar as he provides some good or pleasure,” the latter wish each other well for the other’s sake, requiring, as Cicero states, “a complete accord on all subjects human and divine, joined with mutual good-will and affection.”⁵¹ Given this distinction, we might now say that while the many “friends” with whom we connect on Facebook—from high school classmates to college roommates, second grade teachers to dissertation directors, former coworkers to next door neighbors—may be friends on a certain level, they fall short of friendship in its highest form. Like eros, philia requires time, dedication, understanding, and sacrifice. Though these characteristics of true friendship may seep onto the Facebook page, I believe they need to be grounded in the real, rather than virtual, world. As such, Facebook alone cannot create nor fully cultivate true friendship, but, at best, marks the time and continues the conversation between friends until they can meet once again.

One of my favorite Seinfeld episodes wrestles admirably with the trials and travails which we often face in becoming friends. In the episode, Jerry begins a potential friendship with former baseball player Keith Hernandez, a personal hero whom he randomly encounters one day in the gym. Unfortunately, the friendship never fully develops, due in large part to Keith’s all-too-early request to help him move. Since Jerry understands helping someone move as friendship’s version of “going all the way,” he turns down Keith’s request, effectively ending a relationship that never quite worked.

To date, no one has ever helped a friend move on Facebook. Nor have two friends ever really shared a beer through a social network. And though a virtual shoulder to cry on may be better than no shoulder at all, it can never replace the real thing. In so readily referring to people as “friends,” counting them as we do by the hundreds, we risk trivializing the word through overuse. To remedy this we need only remind ourselves that friendship, in its truest form, is a loving relationship wherein each person becomes a better person through the other. Virtue and friendship go hand-in-hand.

The Handmaid of Virtue

Cicero confidently asserts that “friendship can only exist between good men. We mean then by the ‘good’ those whose actions and lives leave no question as to their honor, purity, equity, and liberality: who are free from greed, lust, and violence; and who have the courage of their convictions” (p. 89). Upon reading this, I can probably guess what you’re thinking. Am I really this good of a person and, if not, will friendship remain forever foreign to me? Perhaps realizing that he has set the bar too high, Cicero later refers to friendship as “the handmaid of virtue,” suggesting that a morally upright character is not so much a prerequisite of friendship as it is the ultimate goal (p. 100).

Cicero’s insights here shed light on Aristotle’s lengthy discussion of friendship within his Nicomachean Ethics, which can be read as something of a “how to” book for the happy life. As such, Aristotle feels compelled to discuss friendship as he believes that “anyone who is to be happy must have excellent friends.” Friends alone do not ensure a happy life, as even here we notice that Aristotle stresses the importance of having “excellent” friends. The best of friendships, for both Aristotle and Cicero, must be held together by virtue, and it is virtue—more than money, power, or fame—that most assuredly bestows happiness. Cultivating a virtuous character is no easy task, as it takes many years to acquire and a lifetime to uphold. Here we arrive at one of the principal boons of friendship in its truest form—friends help each other become better people.

As Aristotle puts it, “‘when two go together . . .’ they are more capable of understanding and acting.”⁵² If I’m not sure what do to in a particular situation, I can ask my friend for advice. If a friend of mine finds herself in a jam, she can call on me without hesitation. In fact, true friends generally need not call upon each other at all, as the friend in need finds his friend always already there. Like Virgil in his guidance of Dante through the underworld, friends help us navigate through life and cherish the opportunity to do so as they become better people along the way. A friend, for Aristotle, is another self, and who couldn’t use another self when times are tough, when your spirits are down, or when you need someone to pick you up at the airport? Whatever the situation, our friends stand by us as we stand by them, extending each other a helping hand and leaving each other with a smiling face.

Our final question, then, is whether Facebook makes us better people. Perhaps not surprisingly, I would answer this question with a “yes” and a “no.” On the one hand, for friends to remain friends they need to communicate with each other, oftentimes over vast distances. As Facebook allows for this communication and, as I argued earlier, promotes the type of casual conversation characteristic of friendship, some of the basic requirements of friendship seem to be met. True friendship, however, involves action as much as it does conversation, and this, I believe, is where Facebook runs up against it. No matter how much and how often we communicate with each other, friends must physically be there for each other as well. And while it may be possible to be there for someone in a “virtual” sense, I am not convinced that virtual presence alone is enough to form or even maintain a friendship over a long period of time. Nor am I convinced that an exclusively virtual friendship has the power of making me, or anyone else, a better person. The best of friendships, in the final analysis, must be firmly rooted in the real world, especially if we expect them to contribute in significant ways to our own, personal happiness.

Time Wasted or Time Well-Spent?

Moments after I opened my Facebook account, a friend of mine sarcastically welcomed me to the Facebook world by remarking “More talking, less doing. That’s what I say.”

Reflecting on this remark, one final difference between virtual and real friendship became apparent to me. Whereas time spent with a friend is never really time wasted, time-wasting seems to be part and parcel of the Facebook experience. This is not to say that all time spent on Facebook is time wasted. To the extent that Facebook allows me to chat, exchange photographs, or share a laugh with a friend in a way that would otherwise prove impossible, I might consider an hour or two spent on Facebook as time well-spent. And yet, most avid Facebook users would readily—and perhaps even laughingly—admit that they “waste” a good deal of time on the social networking site. But why is this? If Facebook promotes friendship and if friendship is a good thing, why do we so often feel as if we’re wasting time when we are Facebooking? This, once more, takes us back to Aristotle’s distinction between the different types of friendship and illustrates why, in at least one respect, Facebook may prove to be a threat to true friendship rather than a blessing.

Whereas the best of friendships, for Aristotle, endure the passage of time, the lesser friendships of utility and pleasure eventually run their course. When considering our present friendships, we’re typically reluctant to admit that many of them are only temporary as such admission seems to denigrate relationships that we may hold dear. As with many things, however, it is all a matter of perspective, for when looking back on our past friendships we find that many of them were ultimately short-lived. From elementary school to high school to college to adulthood to marriage to parenthood, our circle of friends often turns over as quickly as the passing years. Whereas we, upon reflection, might now be inclined to deny that our past relationships were actually friendships, Aristotle—far from demanding such a denial—would only say that we had formed friendships of a certain kind, friendships that naturally came to be and eventually passed away.

Herein lies the principal danger within the Facebook universe: friendships that would have otherwise long since ceased to be may be artificially buoyed by social networking. So while Facebook does allow us to reconnect with people whom we have regrettably lost touch with, it also puts us in the sometimes uncomfortable position of friending someone whom we have not spoken with, or perhaps even thought of, in twenty years. We could always ignore our former acquaintance’s request altogether or, not wanting to hurt her feelings, accept the request, perhaps exchange a few pleasantries, and then block her postings from view. No harm, no foul, right? Perhaps, but given the number of people we have all encountered in our lives and will continue to encounter on Facebook, even these brief exchanges can combine to take up a good deal of time. In this light, I fear that quantity may start to run up against quality. If a large percentage of our past friendships are resurrected and subsequently maintained by Facebook, will we really have time to develop the deeper sorts of friendship that lend meaning to our lives and have the potential of granting true happiness? For all its advantages, Facebook seems to harbor this implicit danger, a danger which Aristotle would advise that we not ignore.

In describing the best of friendships, Cicero says that “You may best understand this friendship by considering that, whereas the merely natural ties uniting the human race are indefinite, this one is so concentrated, and confined to so narrow a sphere, that affection is ever shared by two persons only or at most by a few” (p. 89). Like all technological innovations, Facebook presents us with something of a double-edged sword. While it allows us to continue friendships which might have otherwise and regrettably shriveled on the vine, its propensity to create and maintain friendships in such great abundance risks choking the deeper sorts of friendships which matter most.

True friendship cannot fully flourish in virtual air alone, nor can it do so when one’s time is spread too thin. Though Facebook can foster our friendships, we must not allow it to dictate them—especially when it involves moving a china cabinet into a fifth floor walk-up apartment!