Disruption owing to the loss of friendship is devastating. In this instance, I am not referring to a loss due to death, but due to incidents leading to a realisation that Floyd, let’s say, is no longer my friend. The grief that follows from the loss of friendship, unlike from a passionate lover, is subtle and lingers on without notice, quietly reforming one’s sense of self.
A flourishing friendship is equally powerful. For instance, Apple owes its existence to a friendship between Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak. Google is a product of a friendship between Sergei Brin and Larry Page. Likewise, the friendship between Oliver Tambo and Nelson Mandela moved South Africa in a particular direction.
This brings us to today’s topic. What do I mean when I say Jabu is my friend and what are the limits of such a claim? What do I owe him and what does he owe me? In other words, what is the nature of friendship?
Preamble
A growing frustration with this newsletter is that the topics are getting bigger and I feel more inclined to write longer pieces. However, this defeats my goal of writing a newsletter consumable in one sitting. Nevertheless, as I grapple with the balance between saying enough and leaving out enough, I find comfort in the idea that this newsletter is not meant to present answers. If anything, it is a means to present new questions and hopefully reveal new avenues for exploration.
Now, I turn to friendship, guided by perspectives from various philosophers and scholars. I discuss friendship as a form of love; the limits of friendship in romantic relationships; and reciprocity in friendship.
Love in Friendship
Friendship is a kind of love (Helm, 2023). But what kind of love is it? Ancient Greeks gave us several categories of love, including philia, eros and agape. “The difference is that eros is a kind of passionate desire for an object, typically sexual in nature, whereas ‘philia’ originally meant a kind of affectionate regard or friendly feeling towards not just one’s friends but also possibly towards family members, business partners, and one’s country at large (Liddell et al., 1940; Cooper, 1977a)“. Common among these two kinds of love is that they depend on the qualities of the object to which the love is directed. I feel erotic love towards you, perhaps, because you are shapely or handsome and so on; I feel philial love because you are kind, helpful, honest and so on. Either way, philia and eros are contingent on the qualities that one possesses.
Agape is different in that it creates value in the loved object: my feeling of agape towards you is additive in itself by receiving it. Agape is best seen in parents’ love towards their children. For instance, there is no doubt, even if one had never met their father, let’s say, that such a love is missing in them. In the Christian conception, it is somewhat similar in that a relationship with God completes the soul, so to speak. Thus, agape at least adds to the loved one in some way.
Some philosophers think friendship is a kind of agape love because more than merely appreciating another’s characteristics, a friend creates value in the other person. The value might be in orientation towards life, in access to resources, or having good company. Either way, the love from a friend provides value in a way that one cannot provide for oneself. In light of this, we can conclude that friendship is additive and that friends add to each other in some fundamental way. Friendship is best described by agape love.
Romantic Relationships and Friendship
This is possibly a topic for a separate newsletter. But briefly, it is not controversial to say a friend is not a romantic partner even though a romantic relationship entails friendship. Where do we draw the line? On the face of it, it seems this line is at the point of a physical union or eros. But why is this so? Is it even so?
Phrases like “friends with benefits” occupy the spirit of our time, implying a salient difference in friendship, physical union and having a romantic relationship. One who holds this view rejects the suggestion I made earlier, that the boundary between friendship and romance is merely physical. Instead, they would typically say sexual relations do not imply any romantic commitments. Of course, those of a more traditional persuasion would disagree with this. Nevertheless, this view suggests that something else is required to transition a relationship from a friendship to a romantic kind and that the missing link is not sex.
I speculate that it has to do with the kinds of feelings that one has for the other: a kind of emotional union in addition to a physical one. But of course, as I will show later, this is unclear because friends also have an emotional union. What then differentiates relations of a friendship kind as opposed to romantic ones? Perhaps a more important question is what do we mean by romantic?
It is not my intention to write about the nature of romantic relationships (although it is an interesting topic in itself. I will cover this topic and marriage elsewhere). Therefore, I will not dwell too much on this topic except to suggest that the lines are not as easily defined; although I claim that one knows by intuition when one has crossed the line. My job as a philosopher [in training] is to enquire into the nature of such intuitions.
Giving and Taking
It is not uncommon for friendships to collapse under the weight of one party “taking taking taking” without reciprocity. It seems, therefore, that another necessary condition for friendship is giving and taking. However, this is yet another area that seems clear on the face of it but complicated with analysis.
Suppose I invited you to my birthday. Reciprocity suggests that you ought to invite me to your birthday as well – fair enough. Suppose further that I came to your birthday bearing gifts. Again, reciprocity suggests that you too ought to come to my birthday bearing gifts. As you can see, we quickly arrive at a problem of means and transaction. What if I do not have the means to buy you gifts, at the very least, the kinds of gifts that match yours? Am I in contravention of the transaction of friendship?
With that said my sensibilities for friendship reject a strictly transactional arrangement. Nevertheless, if we stick to the principle of reciprocity, strictly, as a giving and taking and also commit it as necessary in friendship, then we must assume that it is not limited to giving and taking things of the same kind. In other words, you might give material things such as providing the means for us to go out, and I might provide good company that makes it worthwhile to go out. In this arrangement the giving and taking persists albeit with goods of a different kind. This seems plausible and accounts for the real differences in means and dispositions among people.
We can also think about giving and taking over a long period: that is, one party gives and at some other time the other party gives. In this instance, I draw on a video of Mark Lamberti: imagine a pendulum swinging over long periods from one side to the other. One party gives and gives and gives, and at some point, the pendulum swings and the burden befalls the other. This way of thinking is not transactional in the short term sense, but the principle of reciprocity nevertheless prevails.
The principle of reciprocity runs at the risk of becoming transactional if employed expectantly. But a one-sided relationship can hardly qualify as a friendship either. In addition, the exchange cannot be accounted for because it is not of goods of the same kind nor extent. Therefore, accepting reciprocity as a necessary condition for friendship remains intuitively sound but warrants further examination.
Reluctant Conclusion
In the interest of keeping this newsletter relatively short, I must reluctantly conclude because I have not scratched the surface of the nature of friendship. Perhaps I will continue next week.
Nevertheless, today’s newsletter, which is no surprise to anyone, shows that friendship is complicated. One inclination is to say, on the appreciation of these complications, that it is better not to have friends at all, and to treat each individual as an occasion for enjoyment or to achieve ends, be they mutual or otherwise. This view fails on account of Kantian logic, which categorically states that one ought not to use others as a mere means; one ought to think of others as ends in themselves. Therefore, to think of others in an occasional or instrumental sense only lends itself to using them as a mere means, which disregards their intrinsic value embodied in humanity and undermines one’s own sense of dignity as well.
Well, as I write, I have made up my mind to write a second instalment, continuing with a survey of friendship. Next, I will explore intimacy and the limits of friendship.
I will leave it here for now and wish you a great Sunday.
With Warmth
Vusi.
