Benjamin Franklin’s Timeless Wisdom on Friendship
Benjamin Franklin, one of America’s most influential Founding Fathers, was born in Boston in 1706 to a relatively modest family. His father, Josiah Franklin, was a candle and soap maker with seventeen children, and young Benjamin received only two years of formal education before being apprenticed to his half-brother James, a printer. This humble beginning would prove formative in Franklin’s character, instilling in him a work ethic and pragmatic philosophy that would shape not only his own remarkable ascent but also his observations about human relationships. Franklin’s journey from runaway apprentice to one of the most respected figures in the American colonies and early United States is largely a story of careful judgment—both in his professional choices and personal associations. His advice on friendship, therefore, came not from abstract theorizing but from lived experience navigating the complex social and political landscape of colonial America.
The quote “Be slow in choosing a friend, slower in changing” appears in Poor Richard’s Almanack, the annual publication Franklin wrote and distributed from 1732 to 1758. This almanac was Franklin’s vehicle for sharing practical wisdom, aphorisms, and observations with the common people of America. Poor Richard (Franklin’s persona) was known for witty, memorable phrases that distilled life lessons into memorable sayings—many of which still circulate today, including “Early to bed and early to rise,” “A penny saved is a penny earned,” and “Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.” The almanac was enormously popular, selling thousands of copies annually at a time when the American population was only a few hundred thousand. In this context, Franklin’s observation on friendship reflected the practical concerns of his era: social trust was currency in a world without modern institutions, friendship was essential to personal and economic success, and betrayal could have serious consequences.
Franklin’s philosophy on friendship was deeply connected to his understanding of reputation and social capital. During his lifetime, Franklin carefully cultivated relationships with influential figures in colonial and European society, demonstrating remarkable skill in networking without appearing mercenary. He built genuine friendships with figures like George Washington, the Marquis de Lafayette, and numerous French intellectuals during his years abroad, yet these relationships always began with careful observation and evaluation. Franklin believed that choosing the wrong friend could expose one to ridicule, financial loss, or political liability, making initial selection a matter of considerable importance. However, his equally important caveat about being “slower in changing” revealed a deeper philosophical principle: that loyalty and commitment to one’s chosen friends was a virtue in itself. Franklin understood that friendships required investment, maintenance, and a willingness to overlook minor faults in exchange for genuine connection and mutual benefit.
What many people don’t realize about Franklin is that he was genuinely interested in and empathetic toward human psychology and motivation. He kept detailed records of his own character development, creating a system of self-improvement based on tracking thirteen virtues he deemed essential. This introspective approach extended to his understanding of friendship; he recognized that people are complex, changeable, and often flawed. By advocating slowness in choosing friends, he wasn’t suggesting that people should be standoffish or suspicious—rather, he was recommending a measured approach that allowed time for true character to reveal itself. Many social climbers and opportunists in colonial society practiced the opposite approach, quickly establishing numerous superficial friendships for material advantage. Franklin’s counsel stood against this trend, valuing depth over breadth and long-term fidelity over short-term gain. In his own life, he demonstrated this principle by maintaining friendships for decades and being remarkably forgiving of friends’ shortcomings, even when they disappointed him politically or personally.
The second part of the aphorism—the instruction to be even slower in changing friends—reflects a particularly prescient understanding of human psychology and social dynamics that remains relevant today. Franklin recognized that friendship dissolution often stems from hasty decisions made in moments of anger, misunderstanding, or the seductive pull of newer, flashier social connections. Once a friendship is ended, it can rarely be fully restored to its original warmth and trust, even if the parties later reconcile. By urging people to be deliberately reluctant to end friendships, Franklin was advocating for relationship maintenance, communication, and forgiveness. He also understood the practical reality that ending friendships carries social costs—it creates awkwardness in shared communities and can lead to an endless cycle of choosing and rejecting that leaves one perpetually isolated. This wisdom has become increasingly important in modern times, when technology makes it easier than ever to sever connections with a single click, yet research on loneliness and mental health consistently shows that stable, long-term relationships are fundamental to human flourishing.
Throughout his long life, Franklin proved remarkably adept at putting this principle into practice across vastly different contexts. As a young man in Philadelphia, he deliberately cultivated friendships with successful merchants and printers, carefully building a network that would support his own printing business. As his wealth and influence grew, he used those relationships to support causes he believed in—scientific inquiry, civic improvement, and eventually American independence. Even when his relationships became complicated by politics—as happened with some of his oldest friends during the Revolution—Franklin generally maintained his commitments while pursuing his larger convictions. His friendship with Joseph-Jonathan Shipley, a British bishop, endured despite their opposing positions during the American conflict. This constancy in the face of enormous pressure demonstrates that Franklin’s advice wasn’t mere rhetoric but a guide by which he actually lived.
The cultural impact of this quote has been substantial and enduring, though it