There is a body of research that supports your "Facebook friends are not your real friends." The sad part of this is the degree of surprise some express when such statements are made. Forbes reported over a decade ago that Facebook users tended to have "hundreds or thousands of friends" on that platform. Nonetheless, "only a small number of those friends can be counted on during rough times."
That is old news, based on research by an Oxford University professor. He collected subjective data responses from Facebook users in the United Kingdom and defined both probabilities and groups.
The average respondent had 150 Facebook Friends. He concluded that within that larger population, there were two "inner circles" among such "friends" groups, including those who "were dependable," about 4 (3%), and those who were engaged enough to "express sympathy during an emotional crisis," about 14 (9%).
He concluded that these numbers remained reasonably static regardless of how many "friends" the person had in their entire population. Instead of parallel larger groups, those with "unusually large networks" (populations) had simply "added more loosely defined acquaintances into their friendship circle," that is, their broad population of friends. This did not increase the size of the "dependable" or the "sympathy" groups.
That decade-old research came as a shock to some but was unsurprising to many. For years, Facebook friends were generally seen as less connected and even mocked. Memes were prolific:
"Having a lot of Facebook friends does not mean you're popular in real life. It only means you spend way too much time on Facebook."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you knew just because we're friends on Facebook doesn't mean I'm actually your friend."
"If you're my real friends bring up one memory of us that you'll never forget."
That last one likely says it all.
Part of this story is basic sociology. Every college student the world over should have to take one sociology class, regardless of their major of study. People are complex, intriguing, and their interactions and behavior are fascinating. We are all variously driven by emotions, chemicals, inborn characteristics (nature), and the conglomerate of our experiences (nurture).
Social media likely does not influence the nature and nurture much, though a person's thoughts on those platforms might well be influenced by friends, family, and upbringing. But chemicals could be the real issue.
We all know by now that social media is a master of addiction and chemicals. Well over a decade ago, the mental health community alerted us that social media was driven largely by dopamine and oxytocin.
The engineers at these platforms figured out how to stimulate our nerve centers and drag the unwilling back to the platform persistently, like rats drawn to the end of a maze. They engineered the perceptions and feelings.
If any of this is coming as a surprise, you have likely been meditating on a mountaintop somewhere since about 2004.
All of this came back to me when a recent headline in my news feed proclaimed criticism for another app-based tool, Partiful (and similar). The story reports that the next generation has either lost another degree of connection, or somehow grew up in a world without it.
The tool or practice here is the répondez s'il vous plaît, which most label RSVP, and which generally seeks your commitment to attend some event. The point is rather obvious. How many places should we set at the dinner? How many seats are available at a venue? Anyone who has ever planned an event will understand that predicting the crowd can be as difficult as providing for them.
In the olden days of yore, paper invitations were sent. These usually included a small envelope with a postage stamp affixed, in which the invitee could return a card to inform of their intention to attend the soiree.
Don't get me wrong, the RSVP was never science. Despite their formality, every event exhibited some degree of "no-show" despite those invitees' commitments and promises. Many a lunch, dinner, and hors d'oeuvres have been discarded untouched over the years following someone's unexpected non-appearance.
But the next generation has apparently eschewed the paper and postage. They have turned to a platform called "Partiful" and others like it, according to Yahoo. The story recounts a Gen-Z party held to celebrate someone's ascendancy and success. Fifty people were invited (the "friends"), and 24 committed with a "yes" (sympathy), Eight of those showed up.
The party hostess was disappointed. She had spent time, money, and emotion in preparing a party, and she counted on her "friends" to be there for her. Many readers right now are doing the math from the UK study. They are thinking that 50% (24) is a pretty solid response rate, and that 16% (8) is better than one might expect based on what we already know from the Facebook study.
Nonetheless, it is likely that we have learned from the fallacy of Facebook. The young person with the eight friends likely invited fifty real friends, not fifty Facebook hangers-on. She invited people she "met over the last 10 years ... even if we haven't talked in a while." These were real people, real relationships, though perhaps not as close as she perceived. Nonetheless, it is admittedly distressing.
The party hostess was left "questioning her friendships." Following her social media expose, she concluded that she is not alone and such no-show culture has become more common or even expected. She concluded that some RSVP as a show of support, much in the way one would "like" something or otherwise respond on social media.
There are some worthy and rather simple points. First, there are a limited number of people who you can actually count on. Not showing up at parties or living up to RSVPs. I mean, count on. I mean, come at the drop of a hat, count on. Find those few, nurture them, and keep them close. That is not to say there is anything wrong with the others, but they may or may not show up for pizza.
Second, there is room in polite society for social interaction beyond the "like," the "click," the comment, the repost, or the tag. Certainly, it would be more work. Pick up the phone (no, not to text) and make a call. Chat a bit or leave a voicemail. Make the invite personal and perhaps the recipient will take the contact more seriously.
It is likely uninspired to use a distance tool like social media to invite and expect a personal and considered response. You use a remote tool, expect a remote and detached response. The solutions to our socialization issues are right before our eyes.
Put down the group chat and speak to people. Listen actively and attentively. It is a radical concept, but I think it just might work.