By Karen
Sternheimer

I recently received an email from a student, asking me to
email him PDF files of book chapters (I’m not sure which book, but maybe he
wasn’t either) on several sociological topics ASAP. What made this request
especially unusual is that this wasn’t my student; in fact, I had no idea who
he was. Presumably he found my email address online and thought perhaps I would
take the time to violate copyright laws and scan book chapters out of the
kindness of my heart.

How many messages do you get from strangers? And how might
your interactions differ with people based on whether you have met them or
not…or other important contexts?

Sociologists note the distinction between our primary and
secondary groups, but these concepts might not adequately explain our
relationships in the internet age. Primary groups are those who are closest to
us: our friends and family members. 
These relationships tend to have the most emotional importance for us.
Secondary groups are more instrumental: people we work with, do business with,
or are more casual acquaintances. Where do people we encounter online fit in?

Some people develop close emotional ties to those they
encounter online and establish ongoing relationships with them. While these can
turn into relationships offline—especially in the case of internet
dating—sometimes they do not. Others become friends on social networking sites
and communicate regularly with one another that way. Can people we have never
met in person be part of our primary group?

I regularly get emails from people I never met who are
professional contacts. Ranging from other university employees, colleagues from
other universities, or employees of publishers, such contacts are part of my
everyday work life. These interactions can continue online for years before (if
ever) meeting face to face. Are these people part of my secondary group? Maybe
a “secondary” secondary group, set apart from people I see regularly at work or
in my neighborhood.

We might also think about the distinction between these
groups as at least partly delineated by the sort of requests you might make of
people in each group, with special attention to status hierarchies taken into
account. Would you ask a family member to borrow their car? How about a
coworker? You might ask a good friend to pick you up from the airport, but
probably not a clerk at a store you visit regularly. A dinner party can include
members of both groups, but the tone of the party would change if it was only
members of a primary group.

We might feel more (or less) pressure to oblige a request
depending on whether it is from a primary or secondary group member. A family
member might put off responding to another family member’s work-related request
for advice, but they would probably not do so if a client asked for the same
information. Likewise, it might be very unusual and vexing if someone from a
secondary group asked an overly personal favor, like picking up their child
from school. Although uncomfortable, if this request came from someone in a
position of authority—say one’s boss—it might be harder to say no.

Requesting favors can paradoxically be a way of
strengthening a relationship. Often called the Ben Franklin Effect,
after Franklin found a stubborn colleague became friendlier after being asked
to
borrow a book. Franklin argued that people often justify to themselves that
if we are doing a favor for someone, they must be worth doing a favor for.

It’s not unusual for my “secondary” secondary groups
regularly ask me for things, from reviewing manuscripts to helping with their
research to asking me for ideas on a topic they might be writing about. I am
usually happy to oblige, and in some cases enjoy being able to be part of the
research process with colleagues.

This brings me back to the email from the student I don’t
know. I get many of them from students I have never met—often a request for
information—and am more ambivalent about responding to them.  Often students ask me to provide answers to
specific questions that look a lot like exam questions. Or questions about my
written work that are clearly answered in said written work. Some of these
emails express sincere curiosity about my work or sociology in general and I am
happy to respond.

But the Ben Franklin Effect falls short here, perhaps
because of the context of the relationship. While colleagues often collaborate
and provide feedback for one another (and in Franklin’s case, fellow members of
the legislature do as well), but when there really is no primary or
secondary—or even secondary secondary relationship—there is much less of an
incentive to grant a request (especially if it involves a great deal of time or
violates copyright law).

The seemingly anonymous nature of the internet makes such
requests easier, since asking someone to do something can feel more risky face
to face, especially if it is an unusual request. And without such forms of
communication, people outside of our primary or secondary groups would rarely
know who we were or how to contact us.

 How else does
electronic communication make defining primary and secondary groups more
complicated?