What’s not to like about having real friends

Many years ago, long before Facebook or MySpace (remember that?) came along, someone posed the question, “would you rather have a small pool of friends with deep relationships or a wide pool of friends with shallow relationships.”

I wanted the former but got the latter. According to Facebook, I have over 1,100 friends on the social media site. I’ve often assumed that my field of friendships were a mile wide and an inch deep. Facebook pretty much verified that. Heck, I bet there’s at least 200 people I’m friends with that I haven’t actually met in person and many more that I met once at an event and have never connected with again.

I’ve also discovered that my online friendships tend to be in clusters. At first it was geographical with friends from my home state of Colorado and my Texas friends. I now have collections of friends from various places I’ve worked, churches I’ve belonged to, and groups I’m involved in.

I have friends from elementary and high school. I have my historical re-enactment friends, comic-con friends, Lone Ranger Fan Club friends, photography friends, Brazos Bend State Park friends, Sugar Land Skeeters (now Space Cowboys) friends, Houston Texans friends, Boy Scout friends, and friends from the numerous Facebook groups I belong to.

Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to Facebook. That’s where my friends are. Oh, I do see several of them in person when I’m at whatever group or activity we connected through, but the vast majority of people I connect with on a regular basis are on Facebook.

And that’s a problem.

The dictionary defines “friend” as, “A person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.”

It’s hard to bond with someone when your connection is largely digital. Growing up I always had someone I considered a best friend (or in today’s vernacular, a BFF – best friend forever). While I’m still friends with many of them, we’re not BFFs. Time and distance have taken their toll. They’ve moved on with their lives and I’ve moved on with mine.

My closest and most intimate relationship is with my wife, as it should be. But outside of family, I no longer have anyone I would consider to be a best friend, and I haven’t for years. I’m not lonely, so please don’t pity me or reach out to me. That’s not why I’m writing this. I just wanted to point out this phenomenon that I’ve discovered about friendships in an era of social media.

I recently did an informal poll on Facebook asking people to respond based on the level of friendship we share. The results were fairly predictable.

I asked “If we are best friends/bffs, click the heart button. If we’re really good friends, click the like button. If we’re casual friends, click the care button. If we’re just friendly/acquaintances, click the laugh button. If we’re not really friends (then why are you here?), click the angry button.”

I got 12 laughs, seven likes, seven cares, four hearts, and two wows. I had relatives who wanted to know what to click for family. Most of the respondents answered as I anticipated, but there were a few surprises. I didn’t expect any hearts, but I got four, all from women (one from my mother) and all from people I met years ago back in Colorado.

While their responses were heartwarming and I treasure those relationships, I have so little contact with any of them outside of Facebook that I wouldn’t have considered them to be best friends, at least not in the way one traditionally thinks of a best friend. I had in mind the ride-or-die partner you pal around with, who takes your calls at 3 a.m., and keeps your secrets and shares your hurts and humor.

I also asked people how they defined friendship and the number of people they considered to be best friends or in an inner circle of friends. There were many responses about friendship being a shared bond, commonality, and a deep relationship. I think the average number of best/close friends was around four to six.

While I have several good friends, I no longer have what I would consider to be a best friend. Pete Larson, the person I was best friends with back in high school, is a ghost online. I can’t find him and I haven’t spoken with him in more than 15 years, which is a lot longer than we knew each other.

In my research, I’ve learned that it is very healthy for everyone to have someone of the same gender outside of family that they have a deep, committed relationship with, preferably three or four. Lacking that, I think that’s part of the reason why Facebook is such a time-suck for me. I’ve replaced real connectedness with digital ones. I doubt I’m alone in that regard.

Again, this is an observation and not a plea for pity or consolation. Real relationships must be built, not contrived. I don’t mind adding more friends, in fact, the more the merrier. I like being liked, and who doesn’t? But playing in the shallow end of the pool leaves much to be desired.

(Joe Southern is the managing editor of the Wharton Journal-Spectator and East Bernard Express. He can be reached at news@journal-spectator.com.)