December 06, 2012
Imagine
you receive a digital camera with a built-in memory card for your
birthday. You bring it on a six-month trip to Africa where you won’t
have access to a computer—so all the photos you want to keep must fit on
that one memory card. When you first arrive you snap photos freely, and
maybe even record some short videos. But after a month or so, the
memory card starts filling up. Now you’re forced to be more judicious in
deciding how to use that storage. You might take fewer pictures. You
might decide to reduce the quality/resolution of the photos you do take
in order to fit more. You’ll probably cut back on videos. Still,
inevitably, you’ll hit capacity, at which point if you wish to take new
photos you’ll have to delete old ones.
Just as a
digital camera cannot store an infinite number of photos and videos,
you cannot maintain an infinite number of relationships. Which
is why, even if you are judicious about your choices, at some point you
hit a limit, and any new relationship means sacrificing an old one.
The
maximum number of relationships we can realistically manage—the number
that can fit on the memory card, as it were—is described as Dunbar’s
Number, after evolutionary psychologist Robin Dunbar. But maybe it
shouldn’t be. In the early nineties, Dunbar studied the social
connections within groups of monkeys and apes. He theorized that the
maximum size of their overall social group was limited by the small size
of their neocortex. It requires brainpower to socialize with other
animals, so it follows that the smaller the primate’s brain, the less
efficient it is at socializing, and the fewer other primates it can
befriend. He then extrapolated that humans have an especially large
neocortex and so should be able to more efficiently socialize with a
great number of humans. Based on our neocortex size, Dunbar calculated
that humans should be able to maintain relationships with no more than
roughly 150 people at a time. To cross-check the theory, he studied
anthropological field reports and other clues from villages and tribes
in the hunter-gatherer era. Sure enough, he found the size of surviving
tribes tended to be about 150. And when he observed modern human
societies, he found that many businesses and military groups organize
their people into cliques of about 150. To wit: Dunbar’s Number of 150.
But
Dunbar’s research is not exactly about the total number of people that
any one person can know. The research focused on how many nonhuman
primates (and humans, but only by extrapolation) can survive together in
a tribe. Of course, group limits and the number of people you can know
are closely related concepts, especially if you consider everyone in
your life to be part of your social group. Yet most of us define our
total social group more broadly than Dunbar did in his research. Survival
in the modern world doesn’t depend on having direct, face-to-face
contact with everyone in our social network/group, as it did for the
tribes he studied.
Regardless of how you parse Dunbar’s
research, what is definitely the case is that there is a limit to the
number of relationships you can maintain, if for no other reason than
the fact that we have only twenty-four hours in each day. But,
contrary to popular understanding of Dunbar’s Number, there is not one
blunt limit. There are different limits for each type of relationship.
Think back to the digital camera. You can either take low-resolution
photographs and store one hundred photos in total, or you can take
high-resolution photographs and store forty. With relationships, while
you can only have a few close buddies you see every day, you can stay in
touch with many distant friends if you only email them once or twice a
year.
But there’s a twist. While the number of close allies and weak ties
you can keep up is limited, those aren’t your only connections. You can
actually maintain a much broader social network that exceeds the size
of the memory card. It’s by smartly leveraging this extended network
that you fully experience the power of I-to-the-We.
Your Extended Social Network: Second- and Third-Degree Connections
Your
allies, weak ties, and the other people you know right now are your
first-degree connections. A la Dunbar, there are limits to the number of
first-degree connections you can have at any one time. But your friends
know people you don’t know. These friends of friends are your
second-degree connections. And those friends of friends have friends of
their own—those friends of friends of friends are your third-degree
connections.
Social network theorists use
degree-of-separation terminology to refer to individuals who sit within
your social network. A network is a system of interconnected things,
like the world’s airports or the Internet (a network of computers and
servers). A social network is a set of people and the connections that
link them. Everyone you interact with in a professional context
comprises your professional social network.
Your Network Is Bigger and More Powerful Than You Think
Think
of the times you’ve met someone and discovered you know people in
common. The clerk at the local hardware store once hiked through
Yosemite with your brother-in-law. Your new girlfriend is in the same
bowling league as your boss. “It’s a small world,” we say after such
realizations. It’s fun to make these unexpected connections. A busy city
street can seem awash with strangers, so when we encounter a familiar
face, we notice it.
But is the world actually that small? Psychologist Stanley Milgram and his student Jeffrey Travers found that it is.
In fact, it’s smaller and more interconnected than the occasional
surprising mutual acquaintance might suggest. In 1967 they conducted a
famous study in which they asked a couple hundred people in Nebraska to
mail a letter to someone they knew personally who might in turn know a
target stockbroker in Massachusetts. Travers and Milgram tracked how
long it took for the letter to pass hands and reach its destination. On
average, it took six different stops before it showed up at the
stockbroker’s home or office in Massachusetts. In other words, the
original sender in Nebraska sat six degrees apart from the recipient in
Massachusetts. It was this study that birthed the Six Degrees of
Separation theory, and the credible idea that you share mutual
acquaintances with complete strangers on the other side of the world.
In
2001, sociologist Duncan Watts, inspired by Milgram’s findings, led a
more ambitious, rigorous study on a global scale. He recruited eighteen
targets in thirteen countries. From an archival inspector in Estonia to a
policeman in Western Australia to a professor in upstate New York, the
targets were selected to be as diverse as possible. Then he signed up
more than sixty thousand people from across the United States to
participate in the test. They were to forward an email message to one of
the eighteen targets, or to a friend who might know one of the targets.
Amazingly, factoring in the emails that never made it to their
destination, Watts found that Milgram had been right all along: the
median distance that separated a participant from a target was between
five and seven degrees.
It is a small world, after all. Small because it is so interconnected.
Milgram’s
and Watts’s research shows planet Earth as one massive social network,
with every human being connected to every other via no more than about
six intermediary people. It’s neat to ponder being connected to billions
of people through your friends, and the practical implications for the start-up of you
are significant as well. Suppose you want to become a doctor and would
like to meet a premier M.D. in your specific field of interest. You’ve
heard that getting an introduction is the only way you’ll be able to
meet her. The good news is that you know that you are at most only six
degrees away from her. The bad news is that following Milgram’s or
Watts’s procedure—asking one good friend to forward an email and hope
that six or seven email forwards later the email will arrive at the
target’s computer—is neither efficient nor reliable. Even if it does
arrive, the introduction would be highly diluted. Saying you’re a friend
of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend doesn’t
quite carry enough heft to open doors.
But if there
were a master chart of the entire human social network, you could locate
the shortest possible path from you to the doctor. Now, increasingly,
there is. Out of an estimated one billion professionals in the world,
well over 170 million of them are on LinkedIn. Now, you can search this
network to find the connections and friends of connections who can
introduce you to that all-star doctor with the fewest number of
handoffs. You don’t need to randomly forward an email and hope it
arrives at your destination after six twists and turns.
Here’s
where the caveat to the Six Degrees of Separation theory comes in.
Academically, the theory is correct, but when it comes to meeting people
who can help you professionally, three degrees of separation is what matters. Three
degrees is the magic number because when you’re introduced to a second-
or third-degree connection, at least one person in an introduction
chain personally knows the origin or target person. In this
example: You—> Karen—> Jane—> Sarah. Karen and Jane are in the
middle, and both of them know either You or Sarah—the two people who are
trying to connect. That’s how trust is preserved. If one additional
degree of separation is added, a person in the middle of the chain will
know neither You nor Sarah, and thus have no stake in making sure the
introduction goes smoothly. After all, why would a person bother to
introduce a total stranger (even if that stranger is a friend of a
friend of a friend) to another total stranger?
So, the
extended network that’s available to you professionally doesn’t contain
the roughly seven billion other humans on the planet who sit six degrees
away. But it does contain all the people who sit two or three degrees
away, because they are the people you can reach via an introduction.
This is a large group. Suppose you have 40 friends, and assume that each
friend has 35 other friends in turn, and each of those friends of
friends has 45 unique friends of their own. If you do the math (40 × 35 ×
45), that’s 54,000 people you can reach via an introduction.
Now you know why one of LinkedIn’s early marketing taglines was: Your Network Is Bigger Than You Think. It is!
Adapted from my book with Ben Casnocha titled The Start-Up of You: Adapt to the Future, Invest in Yourself, and Transform Your Career.
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