Two years ago, in my first college psychology course, I learned about Dunbar’s number.
Robin Dunbar, a British anthropologist, proposed back in the ‘90s that the average human is able to maintain about 150 stable social relationships. Based on the correlation between primate brain size, social group size and other scientific things I have no desire to delve into, this number has been widely accepted by the academic community, but not by yours truly.
Personally, 150 seems a bit steep considering the way I go about making friends or "stable social relationships." Since the beginning of high school, I would venture to say I’ve made about 30 friends, and even that might be an overestimate.
OK, so I’m at 20 percent of my true potential. But even in that group of 30 I’d guess, at most, eight will maintain that friendship status five years from now.
This musing is prompted by a number of things, including my best friend receiving her first acceptance to law school, recently catching up with two high school friends who will undoubtedly be a part of that elite eight, and coming to terms with my rapidly approaching demise (um, I mean graduation).
We’re living in an environment where practically everyone you meet is your "friend" — in the social-media sense of the word — and we’re constantly trying to portray some sort of intriguing self-image for people we don’t even really care about.
A recent Alligator editorial posed the question of how and when to remove those bygone friendships via Facebook — a topic that’s extremely relevant considering how inundated with meaningless social relationships we are.
So, I suppose the real question at the center of all this rambling is whether networking for the sake of networking is really worth it.
I know people on both sides of this spectrum, with the first being the UF celebrity type: they have connections to anyone I meet, a social media following and a true social-butterfly disposition. The second takes the secular hermit approach, which mainly consists of not indulging in any transitory friendships due to the likelihood they won’t last post-undergrad.
Now, I don’t think either of these are the most ideal approaches, as is usually the case with any extremist position. Turn friendships into tools to win a popularity contest and you lose any true connection to them. Avoid making any new friends and, well, I imagine life gets pretty lonely.
In time, it becomes vividly apparent which friends are in it for the long haul. I had exactly three best friends in high school and added another three to that total in the last two years of college. Six is a manageable number. These friends have seen me at my worst, weirdest and most obnoxious, yet they somehow haven’t grown sick of me. Weeks can pass without word from them, but as soon as we reconnect it’s as if no time has passed.
If they call past my strict 9:30 p.m. bedtime, I’ll answer. It’s the accumulation of these insignificant indicators that clue you into who should be prioritized in your life.
With that said, there’s no reason to cut those distant friends out altogether. Just because you know he or she may not be kicking it with you in the nursing home doesn’t mean you can’t have fun with him or her in the meantime. Having someone to chat with during classes, meetings and parties makes life a little less mundane. And, who knows? Maybe they’ll turn out to be best friend No. 7.
So here’s to great friends and mediocre friends alike — thanks for making me who I am today and not hating me when I take three days to reply to your texts.
Marisa Papenfuss is a UF English junior. Her column appears on Tuesdays.
