It was Thursday night, and I really didn’t want to go to book club. “I really don’t want to go to my book club,” I told my friend Nadya in a message. “I’m so tired. I think I should probably just stay in.”
Three little dots told me Nadya was thinking, and I had a suspicion I wouldn’t like what she would write: “It matters that you said you would go. Saying you would go means something.”
And so of course, I went.
It struck me in hindsight that this sort of conversation may not often play out this way between friends these days. How often does one friend gently nudge another to hold herself accountable to a commitment? Such firm words don’t fit today’s anxious and self-oriented culture. Indeed, recent conversations on Substack suggest that both Milennials and the generations below them are becoming habitually insensitive to keeping commitments. As Katherine Johnson Martinko bemoaned in a recent piece, “It appears we’re living in a time when people don’t hesitate to bail on their friends for reasons that range from justifiable to absurd.” While no one can fault a friend for cancelling due to sickness or emergency or some other unusual situation—and indeed, cancelling due to illness shows care for the host-the culture of honoring commitments seems to have fallen by the wayside while social flakiness thrives.
This is what some (and indeed, Martinko nods to this) might term the Other Cancel Culture–not a culture of attacking public figures who say something impolitic, but a culture of actual, literal cancelling of plans and commitments. Martinko mentions guests simply not showing up to brunch and never calling; viral comedian Shawna the Mom posted a popular sketch on absentee party guests; and author Ruth Gaskovski asked, “Why do we find it so hard to commit to just one person, or even to show up at an event when we said we would?” Meanwhile, the college students I know treat making plans as an infinitely adjustable activity conducted almost entirely over text message; but for those students who prefer to plan ahead, the shifting of plans throughout every single weekend night is a nightmare.
I myself have been on the receiving end of some epic cancellations over the years. The one that makes me feel sorriest for myself was when nearly a dozen families cancelled at the last minute for a museum tour that I had set up—after I had even gone to the trouble of finding grant money to pay for everyone’s admission. It was very embarrassing to have to call the museum to let them know that after all, only one family would be coming that morning: mine. Yet I can’t claim to sit squarely on the side of righteousness here; I probably would’ve cancelled on my book club commitment had not Nadya’s wiser head prevailed. Many of us have difficulty discerning when to make and keep commitments and when to avoid them.
Why does this happen? To begin with, plans sometimes become a source of anxiety and tension in our overcrowded, overtired lives. I myself sometimes make plans while in an optimistic mood and then dread following through when the time comes. I’ve learned over time, however, that honoring these commitments usually leads to greater fruit than simply staying at home. Why is this no longer the common wisdom within our society?
Perhaps smartphone culture is partly to blame. This certainly seems to be the case among the younger generation, who no longer have to make plans over a landline at 4 in order to meet at the movies at 8. With constant access to each other via text message, last-minute changes are possible in a way they were not when I was a teenager. And many young people seem to enjoy this flexibility; not everyone has to be an old stick-in-the-mud about these things, I suppose. Flexible, spontaneous socializing can bring real goods. It’s freeing and fun and leads to unexpected adventure.
Yet I have also observed that this kind of cancellation-rife, last-minute scheduling seems to weaken communication between friends and fails to create the stable ties that are underpinned by old-fashioned scheduling. I have noticed that students don’t communicate verbally as well as they used to and that even text message conversations happen largely through GIF or emoji. Many young people also don’t seem to know their friends as well as I knew my friends when I was in my early twenties–they know how to make each other emoji-laugh and they certainly do “hang out” (though less than my generation did), but I’m often surprised that they don’t know things like where each person will be spending spring break or what a friend’s favorite color, food, film, or book is.
While this kind of fun, spontaneous acquaintanceship is light and lively, it cannot replace more substantial bonds between friends who know that they can rely upon each other. How can you, for example, create a friendship in which you can raise your kids together if you can never count on each other to keep plans? Furthermore, how can you come to the aid of acquaintances (and vice versa) in times of need if there is no sense of having responsibilities toward one another? How can we fill meal schedules for postpartum mothers or grieving widowers if we can’t even manage to RSVP for a birthday party?
Still, upon reflection, I will note that I have never known anyone to flake on a meal schedule when a family is welcoming a new baby or going through a difficult time. Sure, people cancel because they’re sick and don’t want to send contagion along with a meal–but just not showing up with the scheduled dinner is not something I have ever seen or experienced. So it must not be simply that people think commitment is unnecessary; it may just be that they overcommit to a degree that only the most serious commitments end up being fulfilled. If this is the case—that we overcommit based on aspirations rather than choosing commitments wisely–this is certainly something that individuals can fix. Perhaps it is not only a matter, then, of practices–text messaging last-minute vs. making plans ahead, for example–but really one of self-knowledge and personal discernment. We would do well to pay better attention to our moods when we are making a commitment and to the timing of the anticipated event. Sometimes these do not align well in terms of energy or availability, as I have argued before. Knowing and accounting for our limits could help us follow through on—rather than cancel—our responsibilities.
Perhaps most importantly, however, we need to return to encouraging each other to keep commitments, so that our yes will indeed mean yes, and our no can peacefully mean no. When you are thinking about flaking out on your next book club, then, you might consider first consulting a Nadya.
Image Via: StockCake
As the kids say, “@ me next time.”
Ouch.