In recent years, pop culture has valorised intense, passionate female friendship: from the ironclad connection between Sex and the City’s four protagonists, to hot-and-cold BFFs Marnie and Hannah from Lena Dunham’s Girls, to the deep, decades-long bond between Dolly Alderton and her best friend Farly Kleiner explored in Alderton’s autobiographical book Everything I Know About Love. We’re often told that we shouldn’t settle for anything ‘less’ than these kinds of all-or-nothing friendships – and while it’s been heartwarming to see these potent, platonic relationships between women so celebrated, it’s fair to say that it’s now become common for any friendship operating at a lower level of intensity to be regarded with a heavy dose of suspicion.

Every few months, discourse on the pros and cons of ‘low-maintenance’ or ‘low-stakes’ friendships pops up on social media like clockwork. People routinely take to platforms like X or TikTok to lambast those who don’t dole out their time and effort to all of their friends in equal measure; who leave messages unread for days on end; who flake on plans. This weekend, a sarky post shared on X reignited the years-old debate:You guys must think friendship is just going to brunch, going on trips together and taking pictures of [each other].”

Some agreed that these sorts of relationships are shallow and superficial and their prevalence symptomatic of young people’s pathological inability to commit to anything. Others argued that casual bonds like this are valid and necessary. “I think you’ll know peace when you accept that some friendships are just that and that’s OK,” podcast host Chanté Joseph wrote in response to the original tweet. “Not everyone is going to be everything to you. You will save yourself a lot of heartache when you shift your expectations to meet exactly what people can give you.”

I’m more inclined to agree with Joseph. My close, ride-or-die friendships – of which I have just a handful – are close. We’ve carried each other through career changes, break-ups, bereavements. They’re Dolly-and-Farly close. But it would be draining to extend this level of energy and commitment to absolutely everyone I know – impossible, even. Besides, I doubt my second year university housemate would expect me to send her daily texts or rush to her side in a crisis anyway; I certainly would never expect her to do so for me.

I still have meaningful, fulfilling relationships with these people on the fringes of my social circle – those who I bump into at pre-drinks and parties; those who I’ll meet for dinner just a couple of times a year; those who I haven’t spoken to properly in yonks but would gladly see again. Some I’ve known since childhood, with our ‘low-maintenance’ bond testament to our unspoken commitment to one another; others I’ve only met a handful of times. These sorts of friendships add texture to my life; they make me feel connected to a wider community.

It’s worth caveating that low-maintenance friends can never replace close, dependable friends, but research affirms that having a variety of different types of friendships can be beneficial. In 1973, Mark Granovetter, a sociology professor at Stanford University, published a hugely influential paper called ‘The Strength of Weak Ties’. Before Granovetter published his research, it was widely assumed that a person’s well-being depended mainly on the quality of relationships with close friends and family; but Granovetter argued – and proved – that the quantity of relationships also matters, and that “weak ties” are just as important to us as “strong ties”. More recently, a Harvard study published in 2022 even found that having a mix of strong and weak social ties, known as ‘relational diversity’, leads to greater life satisfaction. Many also reported missing their “peripheral circle” during the COVID-19 lockdowns.

Of course, all relationships hinge on mutuality. The beauty of casual friendships lies in the fact that you can get away with leaving the other person on read indefinitely or cancelling plans last-minute because they would do the same to you; it’s a lot less fun if things feel one-sided. But it’s important to take accountability in these situations: if you feel as though you’re putting 100 per cent into a relationship and consistently only getting 50 per cent in return, perhaps you take a step back and consider dialling down your effort. As Joseph says: “You will save yourself a lot of heartache when you shift your expectations to meet exactly what people can give you.”