Expansion and Contraction

On Dunbar's number and being anti-social during autumn

Autumn on Glasgow Green.

Autumn hits hard in Scotland. The long days of summer, where sunlight sometimes peeks through your curtains from 4am to 11pm, are replaced by the cold, damp, gloomy days of autumn. It's remarkable how much I want to curl up and hibernate. All the optimism and energy I had for new projects has turned to skepticism and a need to consolidate resources. It makes sense: after the growth comes the harvest.

This year I’ve felt particularly expansive: saying ‘yes’ to life, making new connections, and trying things out. It has been fun, but I recognise that it can't go on indefinitely. There are only so many hours in the day and, at some point, I’m going to have to say ‘no.’ It doesn't have to be a negative thing, this ‘no’, as long as I remember that I am saying ‘yes’ to other things.

A few months ago, I found that you can see everything posted by the people you follow on Twitter in chronological order rather than having to endure the algorithmic feed. This led me to radically reduce the number of people I follow so that I could curate a feed that gave me a varied information diet with less culture war outrage. This is not everyone's approach, with many abandoning themselves to a Heraclitan river of content.¹

I know a carpenter on Instagram who follows over 7,000 people² and a photographer on Twitter who somehow follows over 68,000 people. There are 8 billion people on the planet so this is only a small fraction of the population, but it's still an awful lot. I can't conceive all the tapping and scrolling and spam such numbers involve. They must really trust that the algorithm is going to present the most engaging content from those thousands of people.

Leaves are falling, preserved in puddles.

An alternative, somewhat cynical, explanation is that people think that by following a huge number of people they are going to get a relatively large number of followers in return and have an audience that they can call upon when they need to market their stuff. However, when I looked at the engagement levels, it was pretty much non-existent. Human beings can't have meaningful relationships with so many people.

The anthropologist Robin Dunbar worked out that we are capable of sustaining around 150 relationships. Over 150 and the tribe will start to disintegrate. By allowing us to accumulate friendships over a long period of time, social media prevents the renewal and change that would have taken place automatically in the past. There are people I spent a lot of time with at university who I lost touch with and can barely remember their names. If social media had existed then we'd still be ‘friends’ but would we be friends?³ Forgetting is necessary for growth and the social media era thwarts this.

In an interview with the economist Bryan Caplan, Brian Chu took a similar contrarian position that people have too many friendships nowadays and that this paradoxically makes them more isolated. Lots of loose digital connections dissipates focus and leaves one incapable of following a single path.

Neil Scott @MrNeilScott

@psychosort @bryan_caplan Clipped because I think it is an interesting, contrarian point.

Social media services recognise this issue and have added the ability to mute people, allowing you to use the app as an address book without having to read about every acquaintance’s new hobby. That said, the experience of seeing someone’s social content is not exactly ‘keeping up.’ Social media is more like a form of entertainment than friendship. New apps like BeReal and Locket may offer ways to be intimate, but current main player, TikTok, doesn't expect any reciprocal relationship between people and focuses on professional creators.

When you follow someone, do you want to be entertained or are you looking to nurture a friendship? It is weird that you can meet a person once at a gig or a wedding, add or be added by them, and then see their updates for the rest of your life. These social media connections are like planting a seed in the hope that the relationship might flourish, but often nothing grows.

At a book launch on Thursday, James Foley pointed out how politicians like AOC, Trump, Boris, and Jezza cultivate a parasocial relationship with their voters:

"People engage with political leaders as imaginary friends towards whom you offer moral support, rather than representatives in institutional roles, over whom you attempt to assert power. It’s the inverse of how democratic relationships should work."

In the past celebrities and politicians were distant, now everyone can get a selfie with Sturgeon or a thumbs up from Jezza. You might even get a like or reply to your comment. The distance is real, but the emotional energy and time you devote to a parasocial relationship are the same as in a real friendship.

At this time of year, with the nights drawing in, time feels in short supply and the idea of diluting your attention amongst thousands of people feels insane. Far better to get cosy and cultivate relationships amongst those you love.

1. Heraclitus, possibly talking about Twitter:

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”

2. I asked her how she copes and she replied: “It's purely cumulative, I go through phases of interests and never clear out the 'old' ones. Climbing, skating, woodwork, queer things. It's a lot of art stuff. Like people who make stuff and then their pals who make stuff. Not much of it shows up AT ALL due to the algorithm obvs, but it's sometimes interesting what does? You know? Like, what has insta picked for me this month....”

3. Dunbar does specify a sub-set of people, such as school friends, with whom a person would want to reacquaint themselves if they met again. Personally, I have had amazing times recently at weddings of people who I don’t see every day. It has been wonderful to share that time and reconnect.