The computer is not working
The computer is malfunctioning. Almost inevitably, somewhere along the path of our friendships, we are fated to stumble upon one of the most paradoxical yet universal of characters: the envious friend. At one level, this person is kind, sympathizes with us in our sorrows, and believes that they want the best for us. Yet, despite such salutary affections, we may not be able to overlook some more troubling dynamics shimmering beneath the surface. When we invite them for dinner, they repeatedly forget to say thank you. When we have a new partner, they don’t appear overly pleased. When we get a new job, they don’t ask us a single question about how it’s going.
The situation can be as wounding as it is uncharted. How are we going to cope? Can this be happening to us? Ways forwards suggest themselves. Firstly, we shouldn’t ever compound the matter by denying that it might exist or wander for too long whether we might be imagining things we’re not. Those silences, missing questions, and strange looks mean exactly what we suspect they mean: of course there is envy.
We shouldn’t expect any bond of friendship to be without at least one important degree of this ubiquitous feeling. The reasons for this are self-evident: we tend to be friends with people who share our aspirations and values, and therefore it’s highly likely that at some point along our journey together, either they will acquire something we very much want, or vice versa. It might be a partner, a profession, a qualification, or a home, but it will be something, for sure.
We envy people for the same reason as we’re friends with them: we like the same sorts of things. We’re unhelpfully inclined to be sentimental and therefore dishonest on this score. We often deny that we could possibly harbor envy for someone that we also like, which can lead us to unconvincing denials and cuts off opportunities for processing and growth. We need to learn to feel better about envy, in order not to have to twist our characters to avoid admitting to it. We should, with reasonable good cheer, simply own up to our envy, as we would to a sore knee or an ulcer.
Children can be good guides in this area. An average four-year-old is comedically open about their ravenous jealousy. They don’t contort themselves into knots in the name of politeness. They will immediately, when their friend gets a better fire truck, either try to hit them over the head or gouge out their eyes. Parents tend to be so shocked by this, they force the child into fruitless denials. They inspire them to hide their envy from two people: firstly, the person they’re envious of, and secondly, and far worse, from themselves. They implicitly teach their offspring a pernicious and untrue idea that you cannot both be a nice person and envy your friend, and therefore tragically, in adult friendships, neither party is left able to call out the problem sensibly or deal with it maturely, leaving it to fester in embarrassment and shame.
Instead, this brings us to the second solution to envying friendships: we should go in for mutual, playful, non-pejorative moments of confession. All good friends should, in an entirely good-natured way, routinely discuss the presence of envy between them. The question shouldn’t be whether or not there is envy, just what sort of envy it might be. This week, friends should, for example, over dinner, each write on a sheet of paper, “What am I envious of now?” and then they should laugh with great compassion at the results.
An important part of the reason why we don’t process envy as we might is that we imagine there to be only one solution to the emotion: that the person who has something that their friend lacks is going to have to hand it over. But of course, we can’t be expected to surrender our partner, our house, or our position near the top of the company just to make our old friend feel better. However, that’s not remotely necessary, because what the person who envies us really wants is not, in the end, our love life, accommodation, or profession. What they want, above anything else, is reassurance. They want to know that we still love them.