If my friend doesn’t care enough about me, or hanging out with me, or my plans, to leave their house 15 minutes early in order to make it to a get-together with me on time, are they really my friend? (No.)
Similarly and conversely, sometimes I show up at a friend’s house 15 minutes early (due to the Inscrutable Whim of the Traffic Gods), and that friend is still in his bathrobe and taking out the garbage. It is Not A Problem, because we’re friends, so who really cares? (No one.)
(I guess this is what people mean when talk about “the California sense of the word ‘friendship’”, i.e., not the real thing.)
It seems perfectly reasonable to me that one would object to this state of affairs and choose not to have me as a friend. (This is one of many good reasons why someone might not want to have me as a friend.) But I think before advocating for a complete shift in social norms one should consider the benefits the social norms already have to those participating in them.
Ozy, the first two sentences of that paragraph are quite reasonable, but the third sentence doesn’t seem to follow. Why would I consider the benefits that social norms have to people I have no interest in being friends with? Surely, much more important would be the benefits that social norms have to me, and people that I would want to be friends with?
There are several reasons why you might want a community norm that accommodates people whom you wouldn’t want to be friends with, most notably because your friends might have a different opinion on what traits make a good friend.
I don’t think that’s true, as long as you both agree on what *your* friendship is about. For example, I am significantly more tolerant than many of my friends of friends who disagree with me politically. I can respect that they find political arguments stressful, and they can respect that I don’t think isolating people from disagreement is a good method of getting them to change their minds. This does not cause any particular stress on our friendship.
In general, I think it is okay to care about different things in your relationships than the people you’re having relationships with do, as long as everyone is on the same page and has mutual respect for their differences.
The implied moral principle here (assign zero value to the welfare of people that you wouldn’t be friends with) would lead to some seriously deranged behaviors if broadly applied. But even if that were a workable system, you and your friends are still likely to benefit from a high-trust society that assumes mutual prosocial compromises. If you don’t treat non-friends as agents capable of tit-for-tat behavior in the service of their own interests, and plan social interactions with them accordingly, then you and your friends probably won’t have satisfactory outcomes.
The implied moral principle here (assign zero value to the welfare of people that you wouldn’t be friends with)
That’s not the implied moral principle. How did you get this from my comment…? What made you think I am even advocating a moral principle? I am confused. :(
I was talking about social norms for a community or group of friends.
you and your friends are still likely to benefit from a high-trust society that assumes mutual prosocial compromises
The norms that the OP advocates for are not prosocial.
If you don’t treat non-friends as agents capable of tit-for-tat behavior in the service of their own interests
I do that, though. I just don’t include them in my communities / social groups.
and plan social interactions with them accordingly
In fact I try to avoid social interactions with such people, period.
then you and your friends probably won’t have satisfactory outcomes
Empirically, the diametric opposite is true.
In conversations with people in the greater rationalist community, I am often struck by how common is a dissastisfaction with social outcomes, with friendships or attempts at friendships, with their social environment. My social circles, my friends groups, are, empirically, more satisfying in almost every way than (from what I hear, again and again) those of (it seems) most rationalists.
Are you sure it’s not just selection bias? I’m very happy with my circle of friends but I am not going to go about specifically stating “I am so happy about all my friends.”
I believe you misunderstood my point. People who are unhappy about something (in my experience) are far more likely to bring it up than people who are happy about things, perhaps because the happy people don’t wish to rub it in everyone’s faces or because “things are basically okay” is not a very interesting topic of conversation. So your sampling method will tend to overrepresent unhappy people. (I continue to be perfectly content with my current set of friends in all aspects except location.)
My… sampling… method? What? What is being sampled, here? Where are the unhappy people who are being overrepresented, in what I’m saying? (How can unhappy people be overrepresented, when—in the situation I am describing—no one is, in fact, unhappy…? You are saying some very confusing things :( )
Edit: OH! I understand now, sorry :)
Ok, yeah, that’s definitely not the issue here. My point is that in my social circles, there is no one like that (with the unhappiness and dissatisfaction and what have you), whereas when I bring this topic up in many rationalist circles, the response is often “yeah, it’s like that for me” from many people, and not really anything to the contrary from anyone but me; and when there are people speaking up with experiences like mine, they’re usually folks on the periphery, or outside, of “rationalist” circles.
You should consider (though of course you may already have considered, and in any case you may well reject) the possibility that your principle of associating with “cool people” and avoiding “sucky people” means in practice that (1) you avoid making friends with people who might sometimes be difficult, even if on balance their friendship would be a big net positive, and that (2) if someone is going through the kind of difficult time that might make them grumpy or unreliable or otherwise “sucky” then you will drop them if they were formerly friends, and certainly not befriend them if they weren’t.
(The alternativ is that you’ve just been incredibly lucky and neither you nor any of your friends has ever had such difficulties.)
Anyway, #1 seems like a substantial potential utility loss for you and #2 seems like a big potential utility loss for your (actual or possible-future) friends. And if you’re going to start throwing around suggestions that anyone’s notion of friendship is “not the real thing” and #2 is anywhere near the truth then I think we may disagree on what “the real thing” is.
you avoid making friends with people who might sometimes be difficult, even if on balance their friendship would be a big net positive
We’re all difficult. (My friends, and I as well.) One learns to be less difficult, in the ways which really matter to friendship, and which hinge on respect for one’s friends. And if not—then the friendship is not a net positive.
if someone is going through the kind of difficult time that might make them grumpy or unreliable or otherwise “sucky” then you will drop them if they were formerly friends,
As I consider personal loyalty to be among the highest virtues—perhaps even the highest virtue—my threshold for this is very high. Not unreachably so; but much higher than (from what I gather) those of most people. So no, I would certainly not ever “drop” a friend just because they were going through a tough time. The notion leaves me aghast, to be quite honest.
In fact, the idea that being simply “grumpy” or—what? depressed? otherwise ill? busy?—is what qualifies a person as “sucky” is, also, alien to me.
and certainly not befriend them if they weren’t.
If you’re a sucky person, and later grow / mature / change / fix your issues to the point where you’re awesome, why, I’d possibly be happy to be your friend!
Here is the truth: none of the close friends I have now, were perfectly well-adjusted, fully emotionally balanced, or generally-content people when I met them. (Nor was I; indeed I think I have met very few such people in general, and perhaps none at all whom I’d consider interesting.) But they were—and are—definitely, definitely awesome and cool and amazing and possessed of other superlative traits besides.
Anyway, #1 seems like a substantial potential utility loss for you and #2 seems like a big potential utility loss for your (actual or possible-future) friends. And if you’re going to start throwing around suggestions that anyone’s notion of friendship is “not the real thing” and #2 is anywhere near the truth then I think we may disagree on what “the real thing” is.
But #2 is not anywhere near the truth, as you see. Which means, I take it, that we agree after all…? :)
If my friend doesn’t care enough about me, or hanging out with me, or my plans, to leave their house 15 minutes early in order to make it to a get-together with me on time, are they really my friend? (No.)
Similarly and conversely, sometimes I show up at a friend’s house 15 minutes early (due to the Inscrutable Whim of the Traffic Gods), and that friend is still in his bathrobe and taking out the garbage. It is Not A Problem, because we’re friends, so who really cares? (No one.)
(I guess this is what people mean when talk about “the California sense of the word ‘friendship’”, i.e., not the real thing.)
Ozy, the first two sentences of that paragraph are quite reasonable, but the third sentence doesn’t seem to follow. Why would I consider the benefits that social norms have to people I have no interest in being friends with? Surely, much more important would be the benefits that social norms have to me, and people that I would want to be friends with?
There are several reasons why you might want a community norm that accommodates people whom you wouldn’t want to be friends with, most notably because your friends might have a different opinion on what traits make a good friend.
Such differences of opinion, if they are anything more than minor, lead to bad outcomes. I don’t recommend having them.
My policy of “be friends only with people who agree with me on what constitutes friendship” has served me very well. I recommend it heartily.
I don’t think that’s true, as long as you both agree on what *your* friendship is about. For example, I am significantly more tolerant than many of my friends of friends who disagree with me politically. I can respect that they find political arguments stressful, and they can respect that I don’t think isolating people from disagreement is a good method of getting them to change their minds. This does not cause any particular stress on our friendship.
In general, I think it is okay to care about different things in your relationships than the people you’re having relationships with do, as long as everyone is on the same page and has mutual respect for their differences.
The implied moral principle here (assign zero value to the welfare of people that you wouldn’t be friends with) would lead to some seriously deranged behaviors if broadly applied. But even if that were a workable system, you and your friends are still likely to benefit from a high-trust society that assumes mutual prosocial compromises. If you don’t treat non-friends as agents capable of tit-for-tat behavior in the service of their own interests, and plan social interactions with them accordingly, then you and your friends probably won’t have satisfactory outcomes.
That’s not the implied moral principle. How did you get this from my comment…? What made you think I am even advocating a moral principle? I am confused. :(
I was talking about social norms for a community or group of friends.
The norms that the OP advocates for are not prosocial.
I do that, though. I just don’t include them in my communities / social groups.
In fact I try to avoid social interactions with such people, period.
Empirically, the diametric opposite is true.
In conversations with people in the greater rationalist community, I am often struck by how common is a dissastisfaction with social outcomes, with friendships or attempts at friendships, with their social environment. My social circles, my friends groups, are, empirically, more satisfying in almost every way than (from what I hear, again and again) those of (it seems) most rationalists.
My secret? Simple:
Associate with cool people. Avoid sucky people.
And that’s what I’m advocating for.
Are you sure it’s not just selection bias? I’m very happy with my circle of friends but I am not going to go about specifically stating “I am so happy about all my friends.”
Uh… ok. Well, I am very happy about all my friends, so… I’m not sure what to tell you.
Have you at all considered not being friends with people about whom you’re not happy?
I believe you misunderstood my point. People who are unhappy about something (in my experience) are far more likely to bring it up than people who are happy about things, perhaps because the happy people don’t wish to rub it in everyone’s faces or because “things are basically okay” is not a very interesting topic of conversation. So your sampling method will tend to overrepresent unhappy people. (I continue to be perfectly content with my current set of friends in all aspects except location.)
My… sampling… method? What? What is being sampled, here? Where are the unhappy people who are being overrepresented, in what I’m saying? (How can unhappy people be overrepresented, when—in the situation I am describing—no one is, in fact, unhappy…? You are saying some very confusing things :( )
Edit: OH! I understand now, sorry :)
Ok, yeah, that’s definitely not the issue here. My point is that in my social circles, there is no one like that (with the unhappiness and dissatisfaction and what have you), whereas when I bring this topic up in many rationalist circles, the response is often “yeah, it’s like that for me” from many people, and not really anything to the contrary from anyone but me; and when there are people speaking up with experiences like mine, they’re usually folks on the periphery, or outside, of “rationalist” circles.
You should consider (though of course you may already have considered, and in any case you may well reject) the possibility that your principle of associating with “cool people” and avoiding “sucky people” means in practice that (1) you avoid making friends with people who might sometimes be difficult, even if on balance their friendship would be a big net positive, and that (2) if someone is going through the kind of difficult time that might make them grumpy or unreliable or otherwise “sucky” then you will drop them if they were formerly friends, and certainly not befriend them if they weren’t.
(The alternativ is that you’ve just been incredibly lucky and neither you nor any of your friends has ever had such difficulties.)
Anyway, #1 seems like a substantial potential utility loss for you and #2 seems like a big potential utility loss for your (actual or possible-future) friends. And if you’re going to start throwing around suggestions that anyone’s notion of friendship is “not the real thing” and #2 is anywhere near the truth then I think we may disagree on what “the real thing” is.
We’re all difficult. (My friends, and I as well.) One learns to be less difficult, in the ways which really matter to friendship, and which hinge on respect for one’s friends. And if not—then the friendship is not a net positive.
As I consider personal loyalty to be among the highest virtues—perhaps even the highest virtue—my threshold for this is very high. Not unreachably so; but much higher than (from what I gather) those of most people. So no, I would certainly not ever “drop” a friend just because they were going through a tough time. The notion leaves me aghast, to be quite honest.
In fact, the idea that being simply “grumpy” or—what? depressed? otherwise ill? busy?—is what qualifies a person as “sucky” is, also, alien to me.
If you’re a sucky person, and later grow / mature / change / fix your issues to the point where you’re awesome, why, I’d possibly be happy to be your friend!
Here is the truth: none of the close friends I have now, were perfectly well-adjusted, fully emotionally balanced, or generally-content people when I met them. (Nor was I; indeed I think I have met very few such people in general, and perhaps none at all whom I’d consider interesting.) But they were—and are—definitely, definitely awesome and cool and amazing and possessed of other superlative traits besides.
But #2 is not anywhere near the truth, as you see. Which means, I take it, that we agree after all…? :)