"Then I'll owe them"

Take a small example. Your neighbour offers to water your plants while you're away. You say "oh no, I couldn't", and spend forty pounds on self-watering pots. Or you accept, and on the day you get back you're at her door with a box of chocolates twice the size the favour called for, so that the account is closed by teatime.

Both versions come from the same idea, which is that help creates a debt, that debts are dangerous, and that the safe balance is zero. There's something in it. People do keep a rough sense of who has done what for whom, and someone who takes all the time and never gives does wear out their welcome. Some readers have also had help used against them. "After everything I've done for you" is a sentence that teaches a child to accept nothing.

But look at how your closest relationships actually work. I'd guess that neither of you could say who's ahead. She had you to stay for a week when your boiler broke. You drove her to the hospital twice. She lent you money once, years ago. Nobody has added it up, and if one of you tried, the other would be a bit hurt. The account is open and neither of you minds, and that's one of the things that makes the two of you close. People who owe each other things have reasons to stay in touch.

Settling up straight away is what you do with shops and strangers. When you pay a friend back the same afternoon, it's a little like handing your host a twenty-pound note at the end of dinner. The books balance, and you've told them something about the relationship that you didn't mean to say.

Now think about the person who helps everyone and accepts nothing in return. You may be that person. From your side it feels generous. From the other side, everyone around you is kept in debt with no means of paying. Some people find that uncomfortable enough that they pull back a little. It's hard to feel close to someone who never needs you.

I think there's also a less flattering side to staying at zero. If you never owe anyone, nobody has any claim on you, and you're always the one in the stronger position. I can see why that feels safe. It's also a way of keeping people at a distance.

There's an old experiment on this, and I offer it with caution. In 1969 Jon Jecker and David Landy had students win money in a contest. Afterwards the researcher asked some of them, as a personal favour, to give it back, because he'd been using his own funds. Those students ended up liking him more than the students who weren't asked. A small study in 2016, with Japanese and American students, found something similar. The evidence is thin. It does match a common experience, which is that people tend to warm to those they've helped.

A fear often sits underneath all this, and I'd like to answer it. It's the fear that once you start asking, you'll turn into a taker, one of those people who leans on everyone. Think about what those people are like. They ask without noticing the cost. They don't hear a no. They rarely give anything back. Meanwhile you agonise over borrowing a drill. The gap between you and them is very wide, and you could travel a long way across it and still be one of the more considerate people anyone knows.

It's true that some people use favours as leverage. If you know someone like that, don't ask them. Chapter 11 says more about sorting who is safe to ask.

For the rest, repay in the loose way. Thank them, and then let the account stay open. Be around when they need something, whether that's next month or in two years.

One easy place to start is with help that's offered. Offers don't even require you to ask. The next time someone says "shall I carry that?" or "do you want me to have a look?", notice the "no, I'm fine" on its way out, and say "yes, thanks" in its place.