As a greater percentage of our relationships shift onto email, Facebook, and Twitter, we may dedicate less time to our real world relationships.
Robin Dunbar proposes that the maximum number of stable relationships a person can keep is approximately one hundred and fifty. He first reached this conclusion after studying the behaviors of nonhuman primates and by researching into the average size of village communities in different cultures.
Why 150?
"...it's a cognitive challenge just to keep track of more people... the other side of it is it's just a time budgeting problem... You have to invest in relationships. You have to do stuff with people in order to build a relationship with them." (Dunbar)
Dunbar also stipulates a number that limits the size of your inner circle, for example. Expanding outwards with lesser degrees of intimacy, he suggests the following milestones: five, fifteen, fifty, one hundred and fifty, five hundred, and fifteen hundred.
The idea being that you may recognize fifteen hundred people, but you can neither follow that many people's affairs nor maintain meaningful relationships with them.
Going the Distance
Consider the implications. If each of us can only keep track of five people in our inner circle, how does it affect the overall quality of our relationships when even just one of those people does not live locally? You may communicate with your friend or family member on Facebook, by text message, or by telephone, but ultimately you long to see him or her face-to-face.
Communication technology prompts us to maintain an increasing amount of long distance relationships. They're notoriously difficult. Granted, they're probably harder when they're meant to be exclusive, as in romances, but long distance friendships present similar challenges.
"As more time passes, the distant object of your affections can begin to seem like something abstract and less than real." (Scheve)
So why don't email, text messages, instant messages, and the Facebook News Feed satisfy the need for intimacy?
Most Communication is Nonverbal
Text-based messages omit the facial cues, body postures, and tones of voice that are so important in communication. Sure, we've adapted to include emoticons in what we type, but they're a poor substitute for real face time.
Even video phones leave much to be desired. Of course video chats afford more intimacy than a simple telephone call, but they're still less interactive than an actual get together.
Nonverbal communication can happen as a reflex, quite beyond the conscious mind. Research indicates that how we use personal space results from the functioning of the amygdala, an area of the brain "deep within the medial temporal lobes." (Wikipedia)
Psychobiologists would be wise to research into how online social networking affects brain chemistry and emotional feelings of well-being.
Changing How We Interact
It seems online relationships rarely go beyond superficialities.
While we let friends, contacts, and followers snoop through our photo albums and resumes on Facebook, LinkedIn, and Twitter, how much do we really receive in return, besides the breach of our privacy?
"...probably you don't know most of these people. They're just voyeurs into your life, and you could probably, with advantage, do without some of them." (Dunbar)
Especially among the younger generation, there's peer pressure to maintain a presence on social networking sites. But do we really consider the people in our extended network our "friends?" If so, the Millennials are redefining what the word "friend" means.
"... the growth of Facebook has somewhat changed the way the word 'friend' is used. Before social media the word 'friend' was more typically used for somebody who people made a real effort to stay in touch with, but post-Facebook the term has been stretched to cover much more ephemeral contacts." (Ray Poynter)
Laptops in a Cafe
You walk into a Starbucks and see a small village of people gathered there for drinks. Even though they occupy the same public space, none of them turn their attention away from their computers. Decades ago this might have been a neighborhood coffee shop. Now it's a global corporation that has been accused of exploiting Ethiopia for coffee beans.
You notice the disconnect - so many people gathered together, barely even acknowledging each other. They're far too busy sending emails and browsing Facebook. Something stirs you to action. For no other reason than to explore your social world, once the barrista hands you your frothy latte over the counter, you walk up and introduce yourself to a stranger.
It's a brave new world.