The Joy of Useless Friends
Aristotle's insight is just as relevant now as it was 2,300 years ago
The nature of Life is relationship, and the quality of our lives is directly tied to the quality of our relationships with ourselves, others, and everything.
But right now, as a society, our relationship with relationships is dysfunctional. The inevitable result is the current epidemic of loneliness, disconnection, and addiction we see everywhere.
Because we’ve deified the myth of the self-made person and openly worship success above all else, our daily friendships have mostly become a medium of commerce, a means to an end. A transaction.
Of course, not everyone would say it this way. We want to think better of ourselves. I want to think better of myself. After looking hard at my own life, however, I clearly see what Aristotle pointed out over 2,300 years ago.
There are, he says, three types of friends in our lives, and each play a particular role. If we uderstand these clearly we’ll be able to intentionally cultivate the most important friendships of all, the useless ones.
The 3 Friend Groups
In his Nicomachean Ethics, which was written around 350 BCE, Aristotle outlines the three main types of friends we encounter in our lives:
Friends of Utility
Friends of Pleasure
Friends of Virtue
Let’s change the names up for our conversation here to:
Useful Friends
Fun Friends
Useless Friends
Useful Friends
These are based on what I can do for you, or what you can do for me. They are useful, transactional exchanges. Because they are temporary, when one person is no longer useful to the other, the relationship naturally ends.
Most of our relationships fall into this category, by necessity. You can’t have deep, intimate connections with everyone. It’s too much. However, many people (and most men, according to research) don’t have intimate connections with anyone.
Why?
In a society where our identities are so entangled with the stuff of life—work, power, prestige, career advancement, and achievement—the unspoken calculus of how useful we are to each other is accepted and encouraged. We’re willing pawns in each others’ Game of Life.
Over the years, I’ve heard over and over again: Your network is your net worth. For me, it has always conjured the idea of a portfolio of assets, each with a calculated value that can be cashed in when the moment is right.
There is nothing wrong with this view, by the way. It isn’t wrong, it’s simply incomplete. Useful friends—relationships of utility—have a role to play in all our lives. If they are the only relationships in your life, however, the inevitable result is loneliness.
Fun Friends
Then there are your Fun Friends.
They are rooted solely in the shared enjoyment of a thing or activity. They are the people in your yoga class, the families that cheer together at your kids’ soccer games, or the co-workers you regularly grab lunch with on Friday afternoon.
Fun Friends aren’t about depth. They are casual, which is the point. You know enough about each other, but not too much. In that way, they are safe because no vulnerability is required or expected. They offer a sense of belonging without commitment.
Since they’re based on our ever-changing preferences, friendships of pleasure can shift quickly and often. Fun Friends come and go. Though we might miss them, we feel no sense of profound loss when they (or we) move on.
Useless Friends
Here’s where the roots reach down.
Useless Friends are about depth, not agendas; intimacy, not personal aspirations or outcomes. In that way, they are useless. They have no external utility, as Aristotle would put it.
Neither person wants or needs anything from the other except genuine connection. The sole purpose of the friendship is to know and be known, to see and be seen. It is friendship for its own sake.
I spent a decade in entertainment management, working with celebrities and high-profile people who all too often wondered out loud, “Doesn’t anyone want to know me for me instead of what I can do for them?” They craved Useless Friends and often couldn’t find them.
Useless friends are the rarest of the three types. Most people, if they have any Useless Friends at all, could count them on one hand. Why are they rare? Because they’re nourished by time, honesty, and a deep, authentic interest in the other simply for the sake of knowing them as they are.
That isn’t to say Useless Friends don’t help each other when and how they can. The generosity between them is authentic. If they do favors for each other, it’s a byproduct of their friendship and not the purpose of it like it is for Useful Friends.
Becoming Useless & Cultivating Useless Friends
Writing this made me think deeply about my own life. “How many Useless Friends do I actually have? And how can I have more?” At this stage in my life, I want to invest more of my energy into depth, not breadth.
As with most things, I realized the best way to have more Useless Friends is to be one. I’ve not always been good at this, and my connection skills could use a lot more work these days, but like everything, cultivating depth can be learned and practiced.
Here’s what is working for me right now:
1. Identify your people.
When a young sage named Jesus was teaching his way through ancient Palestine, throngs of curious folks always turned out. Beyond the crowds in the towns, there was a smaller group of followers who accompanied him on the road, and then his inner circle of twelve friends. And within the twelve there was an inner-inner circle of three (Peter, James, and John), and finally a bestie—John (at least according to John).
Our lives are the same concentric universe of circles within circles. I recently wondered, “Who are my twelve, my three, and my one?” I made a physical list, which has helped me focus my energy and intentions.
How would you answer that for yourself? If you’ve never done so, it’s worth taking five minutes to consider the most nourishing relationships in your life and see for yourself which ones have the most depth. Which ones are useless in the best sense?
2. Initiate, don’t wait.
Ever feel like everyone is so busy that you don’t talk to friends unless you’re the one who reaches out? Me, too.
Or maybe you’re on the other side, and you feel guilty when someone else pings you. Also me, too. Usually the first words out of my mouth when that happens are, “I was just thinking about you” or “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
We’re all busy. We’re all distracted by life’s demands and waiting on someone else to reach out, so days turn into weeks, months, and years without much happening.
If you desire more depth in your friendships, create it through little steps. Because I don’t naturally think about it during my day, I’ve come to rely on automatic reminders on my phone to text, call, or send an audio message. It’s a simple pattern interrupt that helps me take action on what I say is important.
3. Invest with intention.
As I wrote about in How to Create More Connection in Your Life, what we most want is true intimacy, which is allowing ourselves to be fully seen and known. The secret to true intimacy is hidden in the word itself: “Into me see.”
From where I stand, intimacy is the compound interest of consistent, courage connection.
Intimacy is the compound interest of consistent, courage connection.
Like other kinds of wealth, intimacy is governed by the forces of compounding. You have to show up and invest consistently. But consistency isn’t enough because you have to make the right kind of investment.
You must connect courageously, honestly, vulnerably. You must allow yourself to be seen and known, and be willing to see and know others as they are without judgment.
When I look back on relationships in my life that lack depth and true intimacy, it’s because one or both of us wouldn’t (or couldn’t) open up and share our true selves, our very real struggles, and lay down our egos.
This is the way.
Like I said at the beginning, Life itself is relationship. How we show up and who we show up for is ultimately the measure of our lives, not what we accumulated (or didn’t) along the way.
Life is complicated. I get it. Relationships would be so much easier if it weren’t for all the people involved. There are people we feel like we should be close to, but aren’t (maybe even your own family), and we’re close to people who have become our family along the way.
Whatever the case, take delight in those you love and like. Whatever kind of friend you might be—and you are all three—be useful with integrity, fun with joy, and useless with deep connection.
I never thought I would say this. But, I think, the thing I most want to be, is useless.
Great article, Kevin. I’m doing some personal development at college in my counselling course and one of the things I need to think and write about is my own relationships. This is a really useful place to start from 👍