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By Shane Gilreath
I think we all can admit that there’s a difference between acquaintances and friends. Most of us know that instinctively, even if we sometimes blur the line in society. Acquaintances occupy the edges of our lives – friendships, in a sense, but without much intimacy. Real friends, at least in theory, stand closer to the center, but friendships can be remarkably fickle things. They become even more interesting when you add an element of status or fame into the equation. I’ve experienced a small taste of that myself.
Over the years, largely through writing and community involvement, I’ve occasionally been recognized in public. It’s an odd feeling. I can also understand how it might become addictive, even on a small-town level. People often become sycophants and go out of their way. Doors open a little easier. Conversations begin differently.
I remember canvassing a neighborhood once on behalf of a friend seeking public office. After a pleasant conversation at the door, we turned to leave. The woman stopped me and said, “And Shane, I want to thank you for all you do for our community.” I was genuinely taken aback. It was the first time I realized that things I had been doing were being noticed and that people knew who I was because of them. It wasn’t fame by any meaningful standard, but it was recognition, and it felt like the attention had suddenly shifted and I was somehow, unbeknownst to me, the important one. With that, however modest, the dynamics of human interaction can change.
Of course, recognition has a shadowy side as well. When people begin to know who you are, a certain segment of the population begins to dislike you. Call it jealousy, call it resentment, call it whatever you wish, but it remains true. Ironically, it was during that same period of canvassing that I learned this lesson. The friend with whom I was walking neighborhoods one day turned to me and said, “You’re such a nice guy. I don’t know why people hate you so bad.” It caught me completely off guard. In fact, it was the first time I truly realized that there were people who disliked me at all. My own naivete. Be certain, admiration and resentment often arrive together. To be admired and hated at the same time makes for odd bedfellows.
That thought crossed my mind again over the weekend as much of the civilized world watched Royal Ascot. An acquaintance of mine – an almost friend – has been in London for some time. This person is exceptionally good at their job and once frequently invited me onto their podcast. Eventually that podcast grew into a larger show. As the show became more successful, however, the invitations became less frequent. Then they stopped altogether.
There are no hard feelings. The explanation is obvious enough. As the audience grew, so did the caliber of the guests. Internationally recognized names appeared. Compared to them, who am I?
I’ve been outranked. Back to second fiddle we went.
In another case, I suspect I would have been outranked as well had politics not intervened first. A well-known individual became upset over something I said politically and that was that. Given his family’s remarkable history, the disagreement itself was rather surprising, but human beings are complicated creatures, are they not?
Psychology offers some insight there. Social psychologist Leon Festinger proposed what became known as Social Comparison Theory, the idea that people naturally evaluate themselves in relation to others. We compare status, success, influence, and achievement. Relationships are not immune from that process. As people rise, their social circles often change, not always out of malice, but because opportunities and incentives change as well. It’s something we all think about – perhaps, indirectly – as parents.
Perhaps that is why C. S. Lewis observed, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: ‘What! You too?’”
But I think at the end of the day, real friendship is not built on status. Not really. It’s built on shared recognition, shared affection, mutual agreement, and, yes, sometimes shared cultural and societal experiences – a shared set of values. Acquaintances may be drawn by success, influence, or proximity to prominence. Though we know they’re not always, friendships should be less fickle, remaining when none of those things matter.
The older I get, the more valuable that distinction seems.