Here’s the third part of the ‘Love’ series I wrote for the Straits Times. See previous posts for parts 1 and 2.

LOVE 03: Friendships of Utility

“Without friends no-one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.” (Aristotle)

This is the third in a series of articles about love. Last week I mentioned that we use the word love in many different ways: to describe our feelings towards marriage-partners, children, friends, and even foods and pastimes.

Over the next three weeks I will be focussing on the love that exists between friends. The Greek philosopher Aristotle (384-322 BCE) discusses this in his Nicomachean Ethics.

Three kinds of friendship

Aristotle begins by considering the question: how many kinds of friendship are there? As always, he proceeds in a very logical manner. Friendship is a form of love, he reasons. But not everything can be an object of love. We love only things that are useful, pleasant or good.

There are, then, three corresponding kinds of friendship. In friendships of utility we love people because they are useful to us. In friendships of pleasure we love people because we find them pleasant. And in perfect friendship we love people for themselves, because we perceive them to be good.

This week, I will consider friendships of utility. Next week I will consider friendships of pleasure and perfect friendship.

Utility-based friendship

Aristotle says, “Those who love each other for their utility [usefulness] do not love each other for themselves, but in virtue of some good which they get from each other.” This is the least perfect form of friendship, because the love involved is ultimately self-directed. If I love you for what I can get from you, it is really myself that I love.

Friendships of this type are quickly dissolved. Once they outlive their usefulness, the friendship ends. Because, says Aristotle, “They were lovers not of each other but of profit.”

Friendships of utility are (by definition) useful; they are an essential part of life. But they can easily lead to bitterness. One problem is that when people use each other for their own interests they are likely to feel let down when they don’t get everything they expect.

A deeper, and potentially more damaging, problem arises when one of the people involved misunderstands the nature of the friendship. If I think you love me for my character, and then find that you love me only because I am useful to you, I will become angry and upset.

“Most differences arise between friends when they are not friends in the spirit in which they think they are,” says Aristotle.

Case-study: Lisa Simpson

There’s an episode of The Simpsons in which, during a sweltering-hot summer, the Simpson-family build themselves a swimming-pool. The local children descend upon them en-masse, and for the first time Lisa enjoys a taste of popularity.

The situation is beautifully summed up in a conversation between Lisa and the purple-haired twin sisters, Sherri and Terri.

Sherri: Isn’t it amazing? The same day you got a pool is the same day we realized

we like you!

Terri: The timing worked out great, don’t you think?

This is a perfect example of friendship based solely on utility. The children don’t like Lisa for herself, but only for her pool. Deep-down, Lisa knows this, but chooses to ignore it.

Lisa: (thinking) They’re only using you for your pool, you know.

(aloud) Shut up, brain! I got friends now. I don’t need you anymore.

Predictably, Lisa’s popularity is short-lived. The pool gets so full it bursts apart, and her friends desert her.

Are work-friends real friends?

Not all friendships of utility are exploitative. In his book The Philosophy of Friendship Mark Vernon points out that most workplace friendships are utility-based.

The thing that unites us with our workmates is a set of common goals, which we must pull together to achieve. It’s only natural that some camaraderie will ensue, and this is a good thing. Our workplace friendships make us more productive, and make our work more enjoyable.

But these friendships tend to be rather shallow. We all know how embarrassing it is to bump into a colleague at the supermarket. Even if we’re on good terms with them in the workplace, we find we have little to say to them outside of it.

We also know how quickly workmates are forgotten once they move to a new job. We may have enjoyed their company day-in day-out for years. But once they’ve gone, it’s as though they never existed.

This is because most workplace friendships are ultimately determined by their utility. What unites us is our work, not our characters. And, in the words of Aristotle, “When the motive of the friendship is done away, the friendship is dissolved, inasmuch as it existed only for the ends in question.”

Avoiding the pitfalls

It is wise simply to accept friendships of utility for what they are. There’s little point bemoaning their shallowness if it’s in their nature to be shallow. For more meaningful friendships, we must look elsewhere…