Friendliness isn't fluff. It's a survival mechanism.

Sure, modern life enables us to meet our physical needs without any bonds or attachments.

Modern life makes it easy to believe we don’t need anyone. We can get groceries, fix our car, rent a place to live—all without forming a single real bond.

Friendliness—and its cousins like courtesy and considerateness—is an evolutionary edge.

Survival of the friendliest.

When people like you, life gets a little easier. You'll get more advantages. You're safer.

My tax accountant is a perfect example. She’s often late to respond and occasionally drops the ball. It frustrates me. But when we talk? She’s so cheerful and kind, it’s disarming. She gets it done, and I keep working with her. If she were also rude, I’d have fired her long ago. Her friendliness earns her a lot of slack.

Working with her showed me just how much slack friendliness buys you in the real world.

The same goes for the workplace. People will often tolerate a below-average performer who is kind and earnest. There is much less tolerance for an average or above-average performer who is rude and makes people feel uneasy in the office.

And ironically, I don't think we should be friendly because it's advantageous to us. That's a nice side benefit. It's a good reminder to keep friendly.

Developing a sense of friendliness—an affection for others, a desire to be in harmony with our social surroundings—is an end in itself. It is part of a healthy emotional life. It’s part of what makes life feel good.

I'd go as far as to say this: developing the faculties of friendliness is a spiritual enterprise.

Friendliness is a way of being. And it just so happens, it helps us survive.