Jonathon D. Jones

PHL 490

4-30-03

 

 

Friendship’s Role in Morality

 

 

 

            In this paper, I will examine the duties of friendship.  I will look at arguments in favor of the view that there are special moral duties involved in friendship, but will ultimately reject this view.  I will then explain what role I see friendship having in morality even without these duties.

 

            In Richard White’s article “Friendship and Commitment”, White argues that friendship is an “inherently moral activity” (81).  He argues that part of being a friend is having certain obligations, like being helpful or emotionally available.  These are obligations that are above and beyond what we owe to a stranger.  He also thinks that being a friend involves a commitment.  He says specifically, “when I spend time with someone, accept their help, and make myself available to that person, by sharing the more intimate aspects of myself, I am also creating an expectation that is equivalent to a commitment, given the institution of friendship and all that it commonly entails” (82).  In being someone’s friend, aside from the commitments and obligations, he argues, you are also morally endorsing her.  That is, you are implicitly saying that there is something valuable about them – that your friend is someone worth knowing.

            Let us suppose that all of this is actually the case – that friendship really does imply certain commitments, obligations, and endorsements.  Do any of these matter morally?  I’ll address endorsements first, followed by obligations and commitments.

            When someone is your friend, this seems to imply that you think there is something valuable about that person.  But the things I find valuable in her might have nothing to do with morality – for instance, she might be intelligent and able to argue effectively.  She might make me laugh.  She might be fun to be with.  None of these are morally relevant, and yet a combination of them would probably be sufficient for me to be friends with someone.  As such, it seems that being a friend with someone does not actually imply a moral endorsement of that person.

            An objector might reply that none of her friends are immoral people, and that in fact she would never be friends with anyone she thought was immoral.  This is undoubtedly true for a number of people.  For instance, I probably wouldn’t be friends with someone who just uses other people for their money, which is an immoral act.  But this seems to be more of a preference than an inherent part of friendship.  The reason I’m not friends with people like that isn’t because I think “he is immoral, so he doesn’t deserve to have friends”.  Instead, it’s just that I don’t like people like that.  The only way that you could convincingly say that friendship is a moral endorsement, rather than merely a preference, would be if you could show that everyone has this predisposition to dislike anyone they think is immoral.  I don’t think that this is the case.  I personally have friends who I am certain think I’m immoral, and yet I’m equally as certain that they are my friends.  I also have friends who I feel are immoral, and yet, again, I am friends with these people.  Given all of this, I think it’s clear that friendship doesn’t have to carry with it a moral endorsement.

Obligations and commitments are, as far as I can tell, pretty much different names for the same thing, and as such I’ll treat them together.  Let us assume that White is correct in asserting that friendship does bring with it these commitments and obligations, that there are duties inherent in the nature of being a friend.  Obviously, to neglect these duties would be to fail to be a good friend.  But would neglecting these duties carry a moral condemnation as well?  An example, I think, will make things clear.

            Suppose your friend has been jailed and needs to be bailed out.  You are, in fact, his only friend who is available.  For simplicity, let us assume he is innocent, and you know it.  If you are a good friend, it seems clear that you should help him.  It’s also clear that you wouldn’t have this kind of obligation with a random stranger in jail.  As such, it seems to be a genuine “friend only” obligation.  Is this obligation a moral one?

            I think it is.  If this situation was to occur, and I didn’t help, I would be more than a bad friend – I would have failed morally.  It would be perfectly justified, I think, for my friend to call me a “jerk” (or something much more harsh), which is a clear moral condemnation.  And this is not an isolated case, either – when friends need your help, and you can easily help them, it seems clear that you are not a very good person if you would not help.  And it also seems clear that, even if you should help any innocent person with their bail (which is doubtful), this requirement is less strong than it is for helping your friends.  If I needed money for college (believe me, I do), and I wrote a letter to David Letterman (who doesn’t know me) asking him to help me out, and he didn’t, I would seem silly.  I would seem even sillier if I then sent a barrage of hate mail to him condemning him as a jerk – it just doesn’t make sense.  If I were friends with him, it would make more sense, especially if I was clearly suffering under the weight of debt.

            This being the case, I think it is perfectly plausible that at least some of the obligations of friendship are moral obligations.  I don’t think they are particularly strong moral obligations; I can’t think of an example where failing to be a good friend would bring with it the title of “evil”.  When measured up against stronger obligations (not to kill people, for instance), they seem to be crushed.  You’re not a bad person if you don’t help your friend kill someone, or to deceive his wife so he can cheat on her.     However, whether or not these obligations are strong or not, they are still moral obligations.  The question that has to be answered now is whether these obligations are actually a function of the friendship, or are there because of something else.  That is, it is not sufficient merely to show that these obligations exist – they must be shown to exist because of the friendship.  Dan Passell, in his article Friends, makes the argument that these duties are not, in fact, because of the friendship, but rather that any actual duties are there because of some other reason– that there are no duties unique to friendship (4).

            Where would these duties come from, then?  The answer is that the duties would come from precisely the same place they were when we found them in friendship – in some of the parts that made up friendship, but that did not by themselves actually create a friendship.  All of the obligations of friendship can be shown to apply to relationships that are not friendships.

            Here are a few examples.  First, I’ll reuse the bail one.  Suppose that the person in the example wasn’t actually your friend.  As we said before, you probably shouldn’t be expected to bail him out of jail.   But of course, this is only a probability – I could easily find times when you would be expected to bail him out of jail, even if he isn’t your friend.  For instance, suppose he has bailed you out a few times before.  Even if you hated him, you still seem obligated to bail him out now.  Or suppose that he recently paid for your college education – again, you would seem ungrateful and a jerk if you then refused to help him now.  So, clearly, in this example at least, the uniqueness of the obligation to friendship is lost.

            Other examples will show the same problem.  Even the most extreme cases have it.  For example, if any obligation is unique to friendship, it seems like it would be emotional availability.  A more specific example is this: someone (we’ll call her Kim) is having some relationship problems.  Her boyfriend just cheated on her, let’s say.  She wants to talk about it with me.

            Clearly, if I am Kim’s friend, I should listen.  That is part of what makes me her friend – my willingness to listen to her and help her, to comfort her and so on.  And also seemingly clearly, if I don’t like her I shouldn’t have to listen – why should I care about that?  But, just like the jail example, I think there are cases where this isn’t true.  Suppose I had, a week ago, a falling out with my parents and, in a state of desperation, had talked to her about it.  I didn’t like her, but I talked to her about it anyway.  She listened, and was very helpful.  I still don’t like her.  Wouldn’t I seem like a jerk to ignore her now?  Don’t I have an obligation to listen to her?  It seems, at least to me, that I would.  It seems like I should be emotionally available for the person that paid for my college tuition as well - again, I’d seem ungrateful if I was not.

            In fact, I cannot think of an example of an obligation that would be truly unique to friendship.  At this point my objector might be saying “ah, but who cares?  Why does a duty to friendship have to be unique to matter?”  The answer is this: we seem to think friendship, as a whole, matters morally.  But if I’m right in stating that there are no obligations that are unique to friendship, it looks like the obligations are actually from aspects of a relationship which are not sufficient to create a friendship.  To put it another way, the only reason friendship matters morally is because it is made up of aspects which matter morally.  These aspects are independent of friendship, in that for a relationship to have one of these aspects it is not necessary for that relationship to be a friendship.  What I’m saying, then, is that it is these relationship aspects which morally matter, and that there is no reason to look at friendship except as shorthand for talking about the combination of these aspects.

That being the case, it seems that there are no moral obligations that uniquely belong to friendship and justify our treating it as a special moral relationship.  But I don’t think this is really very surprising after all.  If we examine friendships as we actually have them, and think about the things we do for our friends, we find something interesting - obligations tend not to enter into it.  If I bail my friend out of jail, it isn’t because I feel obligated - it’s because I actually care about him and would rather he not be in jail.  If I listen to my friend and comfort her, it isn’t because, if I don’t, I’ll be an immoral person.  I want to comfort her - I want to be an emotional outlet for her.

            My argument, then, is that the moral specialness of friendship does not appear in the obligations, but rather in the motivation.  I’m not sure how you could really care about someone and argue that you are not their friend.  Note, here, that I think it is entirely possible and frequently occurs that someone is friends with their mother, brother, lover, and so on.  Given any normal definition of duty, it’s clear that pretty much anyone you really care about is also your friend.  And it is this caring, this compassion and concern, that really is where friendship intersects with morality.

            How does concern match up with morality?  Commonsense morality[1] would tell us that our motivation for an action has a lot to do with the morality of the action.  If I kill someone because they are about to kill someone else, I’m generally seen as a moral person.  If I kill the exact same person at the same time, but it was because I wanted the money they had in their wallet, I am a morally corrupt person.  The examples are so obvious and numerous as to make their writing unnecessary.  The point is, then, that motivation makes a difference.  Let’s look at our two examples again to see this difference.

            With the prisoner in jail, when I bail him out, there are some reasons that are better than others for doing that.  If I did it because I knew I would personally benefit, it doesn’t sound like I was being all that moral.  If I did it because I felt obligated, it seems good, but not wonderful.  But if I did it because I felt compassion and concern for him, it seems like I was being quite moral.

            If I listen to Kim because I’m hoping she will, in her emotional distress, sleep with me afterwards, I don’t seem very wonderful.  If I do it because I feel like “I should”, because I feel obligated, again, good but not great.  If I do it because I am concerned and care about her, then it seems like a very nice thing for me to do.  A moral thing for me to do.

            As these examples show, friendship’s role in morality is not in obligations.  When I do something for someone because I care about them, I’m going above and beyond what morality requires of me.  And I think this is precisely what doing things for friends is all about - going beyond what is required and doing it simply because you like the person and care about them.  To do this is to act morally, and to act beyond the requirements.  To fulfill the requirements is to be a morally good person.  To go beyond is to be morally excellent.  Friends are people who are morally excellent towards one another.

            It could be that the objector that has been plaguing me throughout this paper would also be troubled by this last point.  She might be thinking now “you seem to think it is obvious that to do things out of caring is more noble than to do it out of duty, but I fail to see that this is obvious at all.  In fact, I fail to see that caring is really very morally important at all”.  As such, I’ll expand upon this idea somewhat.  I will try to give some reason to think caring might actually be important.

For anyone who has read any feminist ethics, talk about caring in ethics should seem familiar.  It is precisely this caring and compassion, and a focus on interpersonal relationships, that feminists are so keen on including in the moral realm.  As Marilyn Friedman points out, “The substantive concern for th[e female] moral voice is care and responsibility, particularly as these arise in the context of interpersonal relationships.  Moral judgments, for care reasoners, are tied to feelings of empathy and compassion” (92).  These ideas are from Carol Gilligan’s work showing that, although women and men seem to reason differently about ethics, it is not because women are less intellectually mature, but rather that it is simply a different way of reasoning.

Friedman is certainly not the only one to see the value of Gillian’s ideas.  The whole realm of feminist ethics basically stems from it.  And the most consistent idea running through feminist ethics is the idea of caring and compassion as valuable and important to ethics.  They also see relationships with people as being particularly important, including friendships.  My point is, then, that if feminist ethics has any real merit, than caring and concern must be considered part of the moral realm. 

I have argued that, insofar as the duties of friendship are of moral concern, these duties do not belong uniquely to friendship.  I have also shown that the important part of friendship to morality is in the compassion and concern one friend has for another.


Works Cited

 

Friedman, Marilyn.  What are Friends For?  Cornell University Press, 1933.

Passell, Dan.  “Friends”.  The Journal of Value Inquiry.  Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1980.  Issue 14: 1-6.

White, Richard.  “Friendship and Commitment”.  The Journal of Value Inquiry.  Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1999.  Issue 33: 79-88.

 



[1] By this I clearly do not mean any form of consequentialism.