All My Best Friends Owe Me Money

The hidden system that makes friendships, businesses, and communities work

The Golden Dome, The University of Notre Dame. Photo Credit: Colin Black

The Pub Tab Theory of Reciprocity

All my best friends owe me money. And I owe them too.

It’s not exactly the world’s best financial accounting.

But I think it’s the best way to build relationships. It works with friends, and it works in business.

When I was at Notre Dame, my friend Paul and I went out to one of the pubs on campus. (Believe it or not, we actually had two really nice ones). He treated me to some wings.

When I asked him if he wanted money, he said “No, it’s all funny money anyway.”

Fair point. When you live off student loans for two years, money feels pretty abstract.

On another occasion, Paul and I spent hundreds of dollars at Costco planning a party to watch a UFC fight at his house. Despite the fact that I don’t really like parties, and I barely drink, I wanted to plan something fun for our classmates.

In the end, the party ballooned so much we started getting invited by random people. I’m not saying random people showed up. I’m saying we got invited by random people, even though we were the hosts. The fight itself lasted about 16 seconds. And we realized that we’d spent way too much at Costco.

But I don’t look back at the giant bill, the short fight, or the party that could have gotten out of control. I think about my friend Paul, and how he’s one of the most generous people I know.

That memory brings to mind what I like to call the “pub tab theory of reciprocity.”

(Actually, it turns out Simon Sinek came up with this. Apparently, I heard it and remembered it later. So much for brilliant, original shower thoughts.)

I should say now, this is a theory of social behavior. Not necessarily financial advice. Please don’t ask me for help with your taxes.

Good friends treat each other to rounds at a pub.

They don’t spend wildly different amounts and then split the bill evenly, causing some people to get financially raked over the coals.

Nor do they take out their phone calculator and do everything 50/50, including the tip. They just operate from a general sense of what’s fair.

It may not end up being exactly equal in terms of dollars spent. But it’s close enough. It works.

Real friends don’t keep score.

Unfortunately, not everyone plays by those rules. Especially not at work.

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Central Park, NYC. Photo Credit: Colin Black

How to Survive in a World of Matchers and Takers

In the first 7 weeks of the MBA program at Notre Dame, we read Adam Grant’s book Give and Take in our ethics class. In this book, Grant argues that people can be divided into three groups: givers, matchers, and takers.

The names are fairly intuitive, but I’ll break it down for you.

Givers tend to give without expectation of receiving anything back. They’re kind and empathetic but also vulnerable to being taken advantage of by others.

Takers tend to look out for themselves first and view the world through the lens of how others can help them on their way up.

Matchers are an interesting bunch. They’re harder to spot. Sometimes they give. Sometimes they take. But, they always expect something back.

Givers are somewhat obvious, but how do you know if someone is a matcher or a taker?

Simple. You just disappoint them.

That’s how I found out with one of my coworkers.

We were doing marketing at one of the biggest banks in the world. We had to get about 7 or 8 approvals on all our projects, including approvals from peers on our team. It had a purpose, but it was still a huge pain. (Did I mention we worked at a bank?)

So, this guy and I decided to make a deal that we’d approve and review each other’s forms whenever we had time, because it was tough to find a teammate with enough free time.

The thing is, I didn’t realize that I’d be submitting one form every few weeks. He’d be submitting several forms each week. Also, he was part of a group of 4 or 5 people. I was a one-man show.

One week when I was drowning in deadlines, he asked for help at the last minute. I told him I’d get it done before 1:00 p.m. One fire after another came up, and I finally had time to look at it around 12:40. Cutting it close, but enough time for a quick review.

I’m not saying I was right to wait until the last minute. But I remember it as one of the few times someone really got mad at me at that job.

Even more wild, I don’t think he ever asked for my help again. Not once.

Not in the next year and a half of working together.

I hate to say it, but I was a little relieved. What I hate to say even more is that I think subconsciously I’d decided to disappoint him once, so that he’d maybe stop taking advantage of me so much. And as much as I felt like a bit of a jerk, it worked.

So what’s the solution?

Well, for starters, it’s probably better to set boundaries before you have to burn some bridges.

According to Grant’s theory, givers are others-focused to the point that it often becomes a problem. They get taken advantage of, or they have a hard time saying no.

His solution is to become an “otherish giver.”

In other words, in the event of a crash, put on your own air mask first.

Don’t stop being generous. Just be smart about it.

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The Chicago River. Photo Credit: Colin Black

Humans aren’t rational creatures. They’re relational.

It doesn’t matter whether you’re talking about friendships, businesses, or society as a whole, it all comes down to this:

Are you keeping score, or are you building relationships?

I’ll leave you with one last work story.

About midway through that marketing job, I visited some coworkers in New York and Chicago, mainly on my own dime.

I remember my boss saying, “Does it really matter if you buy these people lunch or visit them? They’re supposed to help you. It’s their job.”

I get what she meant. I mean, after all, we were paying the agencies, and the in-house teams were supposed to help us.

But here’s a question for you.

When you’re submitting 100+ content production tickets a year, or when you need an extension on an invoice, or when you need to get your work prioritized over other projects, who do you think your coworkers will help first?

I can guarantee you from experience… it’s not the people they’ve only met on Zoom calls.

It’s the person they’ve had matcha with on Madison Avenue. Or the person who treated them to pizza in Tribeca. Or the person who randomly took a gangsters and ghosts tour with them in Chicago on a slow Friday afternoon after work.

I hate to break it to you, former boss. Pizza wins. Every time.

It’s silly. But it’s true.

Unlike what most economists think, there isn’t actually a homo economicus. Most people aren’t optimizing every part of their lives, or trying to rationally find maximum utility in every scenario.

Being homo economicus means you always want the fastest route. Being human means sometimes you want the scenic route instead. Just ask Rory Sutherland.

Or, as you may remember from my essay on hospitality, the famous Indian restaurant Dishoom could offer every customer a 16% discount. Instead, they let their lunch customers roll a 6-sided die for a chance to get a free meal.

Math says it’s the same result. Human experience says something different.

I’m about to launch a new project soon, and one of my former coworkers is going to help with part of it, even though until last week I hadn’t talked to her for 3 years.

You see, we got coffee in New York with her team back in 2021 or so. Then, we grabbed beers in London in late 2023.

It wasn’t convenient. I’m sure she would have rather gone straight home to her family after work. And I had more sightseeing I wanted to do that day. I’d promised my mom’s friend that I’d go see a garden in Richmond that night, and I wanted to see where Ted Lasso was filmed.

Sometimes grabbing drinks outside in the freezing cold in London in December isn’t rational. For that matter, taking an hour-long train out to Richmond Green alone at night in the dark probably isn’t rational either.

Spending too much on a party at Costco isn’t rational.

Treating your friends to wings and beers without wanting to be paid back isn’t rational.

Buying pizza for coworkers you’ll never see again in person isn’t rational.

But it is human.

Mural by the St. Joseph River, South Bend, IN. Photo Credit: Colin Black

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