Born an only child and much taken with solitary endeavours I have now and again reflected on the implications of this for forming friendships. Maybe there’s a genetic element too. My father, not an only child but brought up with a brother nine years younger, was similarly attracted to solitude and to ‘standing and staring’. A couplet from W.H. Davies keeps intruding on my mind: ‘What is this life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare?’ My father used to stand and stare and I used to wonder what was going through his mind. Well, if I’m anything to go by, as a chip off the old block once more, often not much at all. But back to friendship.
I’m never quite sure how to define ‘a friend’. My father was once told by a ‘friend’ that he deployed overly strict criteria in defining and practicing ‘friendship’. In other words, he was inhibited by difference, be it in outlook, behaviour, interests or whatever. Maybe I’m not dissimilar. Anyway, all this has encouraged me to proffer a typology of adult friendships. So here goes. Obviously I’m open to critiques. My types here are neither fixed in stone nor once-for-all designations: people can inhabit mixes of types and move from one to another (and back). Feedback from within or without my own discipline of sociology are most welcome.
- Intimate partnerships – it is not always the case that lasting partnerships, like those in marriage or equivalent long-term relationship, coincide with friendships. Some partners, even now they are a good deal easier to escape than they were historically (though still more so for men than for women), are characterised by a precarious co-existence, opposing mindsets and interests or intermittent hostility. However, when the positives of ‘intimacy’ merge we can write of ‘intimate friends’.
- ‘Old buddies’ – these are friendships that have stood the test of time and involve a sufficient overlap of worldviews, interests and companionability. They have stood the test of time and typically involve regular meetings. Often too they extend to inter-family get-togethers and the sharing of family news.
- Interest-dependent relations – such friendships are rooted in a sharing of interests or experiences. These can be work-related and/or arise out of common memberships of churches, clubs, attendance on courses, leisure pursuits, pub culture or experiences. They do not require epistemic, moral or political agreement.
- Political comradeship – as implied in the heading, such friendships arise out of outlooks held in common as well as attendances at political gatherings, engagements inside and outside of party politics, protests, marches and so on.
- Ad hoc companionships – these occur when people who would otherwise be designated ‘acquaintances’ become companionable friends over time, on the whole as a result of regular if intermittent contact. They have little in common except for repeated contacts.
- Virtual contacts – increasingly people who use social media like X, Facebook, Instagram etc form routine linkages with others, relations forged in accordance with a wide assortment of criteria, including habit. Often underestimated due to a generalised – and understandable – scepticism about the positive versus negative consequences of going online, such friendships can prove vital sources of support as well as the sharing of views and experiences, either in the absence of actual friendships or as a continuation or compliment to them.
To repeat, our experiences frequently involve a mix of these types and evolve over time. As for myself, how would I characterise my mix of friendships and solitariness? I certainly enjoy a mix of all six types. I feel that I am able to socialise: you pick up ways and means over the years and I am generally pleasant enough, maybe excepting occasions when I am abused for holding certain views, or, less frequently, when faced with outright fascists. But I do relish solitude. Often this is accomplished in company: I can, indeed prefer, to write in otherwise busy, even noisy, environments, as readers of my blogs will know. So, solitude in company: people going about their business all around me but leaving me alone with my books, thoughts and laptop.
But I do also relish ‘standing and staring’, just like my dad.