The word love is bantered around E-V-E-R-Y D-A-Y. There’s an assumption that people know exactly what you’re talking about when you say ‘love’. And whether it’s referring to chocolate, a cultural issue, a plutonic friendship or an intimate and sexual relationship, ‘love’ is so widely used. Perhaps it would be in humanities best interest to dig a little deeper to figure out how searching for and expressing a particular love results in various outcomes.
In the What’s with Bonding?? blog, I shared Fischer’s thoughts on Lust, Romance and Attachment. A good percentage of relationships start with lust, however Eros was deemed by the Greeks as the most the most unreliable form of love. The word ‘soul mate’ is a very recent cultural idea (this short video is well worth watching), yet the search for a soul mate could perhaps be one of the biggest myths of our time.
It would be interesting to know how many sexuality education classes in Australia discuss sex alongside love. Lessons in the Netherlands recognise love as a foundational concept to teach to young children, forming a strong foundation for more mature sexuality conversations as it becomes developmentally appropriate.
Young and older people alike have an inner need to feel connected, valued and loved. However in that search for love in partner relationships, if Agape and Pragma are not understood, when the Eros or Ludus wears off it may mean the end of a partnership as opposed to pressing through to develop something deeper (and if you have no idea what I’ve just said, keep reading.) Given ‘love’ is a driving force for so many, education on the varied forms of love may help young people figure out what they are searching for; and on a broader cultural level, perhaps the same question is worthy of asking.
The following is republished in it’s entirety from a blog based on a book by Roman Krznaric, How Should We Live? Great Ideas from the Past for Everyday Life. Krznaric is a modern cultural thinker and writer on the art of living and social change.
Today’s coffee culture has an incredibly sophisticated vocabulary. Do you want a cappuccino, an espresso, a skinny latte or maybe an iced caramel macchiato?
The ancient Greeks were just as sophisticated in the way they talked about love, recognizing six different varieties. They would have been shocked by our crudeness in using a single word both to whisper “l love you” over a candlelit meal and to casually sign an email “lots of love.”
So what were the six loves known to the Greeks? And how can they inspire us to move beyond our current addiction to romantic love, which has 94 percent of young people hoping — but often failing — to find a unique soul mate who can satisfy all their loving needs?
Eros: The first kind of love was eros, named after the Greek god of fertility, and represented the idea of sexual passion and desire. But the Greeks didn’t always think of it as something positive, as we tend to today. In fact, eros was viewed as a dangerous, fiery and irrational form of love that could take hold of you and possess you — an attitude shared by many later spiritual thinkers, such as the Christian writer C.S. Lewis. Eros involved a loss of control that frightened the Greeks. Which is odd, because losing control is precisely what many people now seek in a relationship. Don’t we all hope to fall “madly” in love?
Philia: The second variety of love was philia or friendship, which the Greeks valued far more than the base sexuality of eros. Philia concerned the deep comradely friendship that developed between brothers in arms who had fought side by side on the battlefield. It was about showing loyalty to your friends, sacrificing for them, as well as sharing your emotions with them. (Another kind of philia, sometimes called storge, embodied the love between parents and their children.) We can all ask ourselves how much of this comradely philia love we have in our lives. It’s an important question in an age when we attempt to amass “friends” on Facebook or ‘followers’ on Twitter — achievements that would have hardly impressed the Greeks.
Ludus: This was the Greek’s idea of playful love, which referred to the playful affection between children or young lovers. We’ve all had a taste of it in the flirting and teasing in the early stages of a relationship. But we also live out our ludus when we sit around in a bar bantering and laughing with friends, or when we go out dancing. Dancing with strangers may be the ultimate ludic activity, almost a playful substitute for sex itself. Social norms frown on this kind of adult playful frivolity, but a little more ludus might be just what we need to spice up our love lives.
Agape: The fourth love, and perhaps the most radical, was agape or selfless love. This was a love that you extended to all people, whether family members or distant strangers. Agape was later translated into Latin as caritas, which is the origin of our word charity. Lewis referred to it as “gift love,” the highest form of Christian love. But it also appears in other religious traditions, such as the idea of mettā or “universal loving kindness” in Theravāda Buddhism. There is growing evidence that agape is in a dangerous decline in many countries. Empathy levels in the U.S. have dropped nearly 50 percent over the past 40 years, with the steepest fall occurring in the past decade. We urgently need to revive our capacity to care about strangers.
Pragma: Another Greek love was pragma or mature love. This was the deep understanding that developed between long-married couples. It was about making compromises to help the relationship work over time, and showing patience and tolerance. The psychoanalyst Erich Fromm said that we expend too much energy on “falling in love” and need to learn more how to “stand in love.” Pragma is precisely about standing in love — making an effort to give love rather than just receive it. With divorce rates currently running at 50 percent, the Greeks would surely think we should bring a serious dose of pragma into our relationships.
Philautia: The final variety of love was philautia or self-love. The clever Greeks realised there were two types. One was an unhealthy variety associated with narcissism, where you became self-obsessed, and focused on gaining personal fame and fortune. A healthier version of philautia enhanced your wider capacity to love. The idea was that if you like yourself and feel secure in yourself, you will have plenty of love to give others (today this is reflected in the Buddhist-inspired concept of “self-compassion”). Or as Aristotle put it, “All friendly feelings for others are an extension of man’s feelings for himself.”
So what are the Greeks really trying to tell us? Most strikingly, they found diverse kinds of love in relationships with a wide range of people — friends, family, spouses, strangers, and even with themselves. This contrasts with our typical focus on a single romantic relationship, where we hope to find all the different loves wrapped into a single person or soul mate. The message from the Greeks is to nurture the varieties of love and tap into its many sources.
Don’t just seek eros, but cultivate philia by spending more time with old friends, or develop your ludus by dancing the night away.
Moreover, we should abandon our obsession with perfection. Don’t expect your partner to offer you all the varieties of love, all of the time (with the danger that you may toss aside a partner who fails to live up to your desires). Recognize that a relationship may begin with plenty of eros and playful ludus, then evolve toward embodying more pragma or selfless agape.
There is also the consoling thought that if you feel an absence of a lover in your life, by mapping out the extent to which all six loves are present, you might discover you’ve got a lot more love than you had ever imagined.
It’s time we introduced the six varieties of Greek love into our everyday vocabulary. That way we’ll become just as sophisticated in the art of loving as we are when ordering a cup of coffee.