26-year-old Sophie says she’s “always” been the planner in her friendship groups. “I’m definitely a Type A friend,” she says, explaining that she grew up surrounded by “proactive” people. “My family have always been planners – we love a day out – and my closest friends from high school were as Type A, if not more Type A, than me.” But her university friends had a different attitude. “It was a shock to the system,” she says.

On one occasion, Sophie organised a holiday to Spain for herself and seven others. “I sorted out the dates, picked where we were going, booked the villa, and booked both airport transfers.” When they arrived, Sophie expected a little gratitude. “I thought I might get the first pick of the rooms,” she recalls. “But they said the fairest way was to do it randomly. I got over it because I didn’t want to kick up a fuss, but I was pretty annoyed.” 

If you can empathise with Sophie’s predicament, chances are you’re a Type A friend too. Type As are highly organised and proactive (if a little perfectionist and impatient); by contrast, Type Bs are more laid-back, happy to go with the flow, and borderline chaotic. Type As are the ones who create polls and shared calendars to figure out when everyone’s free, suss out options that suit everyone’s needs and availability, and offer up their card details to actually secure the booking. Type Bs, meanwhile, are more likely to reply to perfectly coherent messages from their Type A counterparts with a glassy-eyed “wait what”. 

There are countless videos on TikTok which delve into the stark differences between Type As and Type Bs. Many are tongue-in-cheek, gently poking fun at Type Bs’ incompetence. Others are from frustrated Type As at the end of their tether. “Unpopular opinion, but sometimes you’re not the ‘Type B’ friend – you’re just a bad friend,” says 22-year-old content creator Alice in one video, which has been viewed nearly three million times. “I can’t deal with them being constantly nonchalant and indifferent about everything [...] As I get older – and this is personal preference – I don’t think I can be friends with someone who makes me feel like I’m their personal assistant.”

Chloe*, 22, feels similarly. “It frustrates me when I only need some specific details – dates that people are available, who can come and who can’t – and they can’t even reply to that.” She adds that her male friends are particularly bad at planning. “The guys never organise or have a plan, so it’s always me that does it all because they don’t communicate with each other and are quite lazy,” she explains. “They say they see me as their ‘PA’. Now I’ve put myself in that role, I can’t really get out of it.” This tracks with research which suggests that men generally take a more casual, spontaneous attitude towards socialising (perhaps it’s little wonder that one in seven men report having no close friends at all).

While it’s always been common for people to socialise less after becoming fully-fledged adults with innumerable time-and-energy-sapping obligations, there’s ample evidence to suggest that today’s young people really are finding it particularly difficult to socialise: a 2023 study found that people between the ages of 15 and 24 spend a whopping 70 per cent less time in person with their friends than their Gen X counterparts did in 2003, while more recent data shows that Americans now spend an average of just three hours a week with friends, down from six a decade ago.

Perhaps the real problem right now is that maintaining friendships requires planning, rather than letting it just evolve spontaneously

Izzy*, 28, is a self-professed Type B. “I hate being forced into things. I don’t like feeling pressured to see anyone,” she says. “That means that sometimes people do fall by the wayside.” When it comes to planning her social life, Izzy prefers to be more spontaneous. “My primary method of seeing my friends is through random pints; I often prioritise partying instead of seeing someone for dinner.” India, 26, is a fellow Type B. “Thinking about the details of plans is overwhelming and, depending on the plan, can feel boring and even burdensome,” she explains. “When it comes to practical details I get overstimulated relatively easily. I like to ideate on what I want to do and prefer my Type A friends to plan the small – but necessary – details.”

In defence of Type Bs, it’s difficult for all of us to make time for personal relationships when late-stage capitalism promotes and fosters insularity. “It is very hard to make time for friends, but it is even harder to do so when every minute of every day is a commodifiable unit that could be differentially deployed for a side hustle,” says ethnographer and author Kristen Ghodsee. Essentially, we’re all facing the same stressful, overwhelming conditions; but while Type As want to regain control of their time, Type Bs prefer to save themselves the extra stress.

Unsurprisingly, these conflicting perspectives can cause a lot of friction. “I once cancelled on a friends’ engagement drinks because I was hungover. I had to send her flowers and chocolates to say sorry,” Izzy recalls. “I would say at any given moment there are at least one person who is annoyed at me because I’ve not made an effort to see them.” India has likewise clashed with her more organised friends. “I have a friend of eight years who is very type A: detail-oriented, calculated, thoughtful. I feel like he’s definitely got annoyed with my absentmindedness.”

We should all try to resist society’s creeping insularity, and taking on the mental labour of organising plans every once in a while is a straightforward way to do that. “I think nowadays, there’s this trend of hyperindependence trend on the rise, where we act like we don’t need anyone. But communities are so crucial,” Alice says. Plus, as Ghodsee warns: “People who aren’t ‘planners’ will eventually stop being included in social events if they don’t show up in other ways. This will lead to their own isolation, which will reduce their quality of life in the long run.” It’s true: loneliness can be as damaging to health as smoking 15 cigarettes per day. It’s clear that Type As like Sophie, Alice, and Chloe won’t stomach their Type B friends’ laziness forever. “I stop putting so much effort in now if it feels one-sided,” Chloe says.

And, for the record, my fellow Type As: the world won’t end if you don’t draw up a ten-page itinerary for your next holiday. “I am learning to go with the flow more,” Chloe adds. Sophie is adopting a similar approach, and is trying to “take a step back from planning every single thing.” Izzy adds that she reckons “Type As should be a bit more Type B sometimes”, and stresses that being Type B doesn’t necessarily mean she’s impossible to pin down: “I’m the person who will always be around if you want to go for a last-minute pint.”

It’s worth reiterating that the ongoing Gen Z loneliness crisis is ultimately a much broader issue that goes beyond the issue of who plans what within your friendship groups. “I think we need to start by asking why there needs to be a ‘planner’ in the first place,” posits Ghodsee. For most of human history, she explains, our friends lived close by and we tended to just drop in on each other when we had free time. In many cultures outside of the West, this is still common practice. “Perhaps the real problem right now is that maintaining friendships requires planning, rather than letting it just evolve spontaneously,” she says. “Rather than just focusing on changing ourselves, we should also be thinking of ways to change our societies. This is a systemic problem, and it requires systemic solutions.”

*Name has been changed