At 100, David Attenborough has outlived the requisite age for anyone who may want to build using LEGO pieces.
In contrast, a child will fight another for the final LEGO piece, even though each has a mountain of pieces to play with on the side. That is deprival super-reaction.
This psychological tendency was, to my knowledge, first explained by Charlie Munger as an easy-to-remember rule in his famous talk on The Psychology of Misjudgement.
Super-reaction is reacting over and beyond how a rational agent would. It beats logic to exchange blows and impose scratches over a single item when you have already secured a large number of the same. Still, kids will fight.
Here’s the concept: You have continued to successfully secure the item of interest, and what is left is a single one. You are not the only one who wants it. The possibility of failure contrasts with your previous successful efforts. You stand to lose what you value, so you fear missing out on the last piece. Ergo, fear of missing out (FOMO).
You don’t need to have possessed it. You just have to imagine losing or not acquiring or experiencing it. It’s psychological. But the imagined loss can hit hard. So individuals super-react to ensure they secure it.
In my final year in primary school, I remember two girls fighting over a guy who couldn’t care less about the outcome. One of them pulled out a ball of socks from the other’s bra. It was embarrassing. Meanwhile, the guy they were fighting over was not on the frontlines as scratches were inflicted on each of the girls’ skin.
Deprival super-reaction explains why they acted the way they did. They imagined losing their “man” and couldn’t stomach it. FOMO. Violence followed.
The more I thought about it, the more I saw how FOMO has applied in various stages of our evolution. Presently, it is being used in business. Its effect is so powerful that I felt it demanded documentation. What I will explain are several examples detailing the application of FOMO, defying the previous examples we have always known of service.
Take a tool as simple as a spoon. Spoons are sold to us because they make feeding clean and simple. Hands and fingers don’t get dirty. Soup doesn’t need to be slurped. Tea can get stirred and even cooled with ease. A spoon has utility. They have been so useful that the alternative is unthinkable.
Will we be missing out? Is there a psychological urge to fight over other spoons when you already have a closet-full of them? I don’t think so.
Think of what Coca-Cola has been doing. They create ads with pristine images and videos, promising a feeling you cannot get anywhere. They sell the feeling. The tagline Taste the feeling is intentional. There is some element of missing out. But will you fear missing it? I highly doubt, likely because a bottle of Coke is a stop-shop away.
For a while now, software has been offered as a service so often that it has achieved a recognizable abbreviation — SaaS. An application one subscribes to, a web browser, an email.
A spoon is a tool, a physical good, hardware. Tools make work easier. They serve our intentions. We can say that spoons are an example of hardware as a service. Online applications are not physically tangible, and so they have acquired the status of SaaS. Another intangible element that is now being utilized aggressively is FOMO. This, FOMO as a service, heretofore abbreviated as FaaS, is the basis of this essay.
Stories, radios, and television
Stories are one of the most amazing of human inventions. Seated next to the evening fire, guardians, parents, or older siblings could tell stories, and everyone around could gather to listen. It was so potent that every opportunity to listen to one was aggressively fought for. Kids would rather sit and listen to stories than finish a house chore. As much as storytelling could inject FOMO, it didn’t offer services in the business sense.
Enter the radio.
I recall making a promise to myself to get that portable pocket radio as soon as my savings accumulated to KSh100. It had a flat base and an ovoid body, with an antenna sticking out at the top. A fanning of small holes radiated from the centre, serving as the speaker. This was better than the slightly larger one in our sitting room, which was no bigger than a diary. We celebrated the day our mother came home with one. Whichever radio you got, you would cherish it.
Every 7 pm, we would tune to the only radio station my sisters and I would listen to — Kiss FM. Top 7 at 7. Every weekday, without missing. Years later, my mother bought a bigger one, and at 9 pm every weekday, my brother would have us listening to Top 9 at 9 with Eve D’Souza, Capital FM. On Saturday, from 10 am, it was Rick Dees Top 40.
Newspapers would print the lyrics to the most popular songs at the time. If you didn’t have a copy of Boomba Train, you couldn’t confidently consider yourself to be cool. We’d actively mine newspapers so we can get these cutouts. Some of us even glued them on books, for reference and as evidence that you were one of the cool ones.
Like clockwork, we never missed any of these radio programmes. I recall Lil Kim’s Lighters Up topping the charts for weeks, and everyone in class knowing about it. This was one of the earliest versions of FaaS.
Enter television.
Back then, the daily newspapers published the programme lineup of the local TV stations. A cut-out of the same could help in planning one’s day. Unlike my friends, I grew up with Kenya Broadcasting Corporation (KBC), my channel of induction, before my mother upgraded to Greatwall TV. Access to all the local TV stations, despite being in black and white, was still a milestone in our entertainment.
Everyone waited for Omo-Pick-a Box and WWE Sunday Night Smackdown. Since my mother used to come home late from work, I was lucky to watch almost every episode of The Bold and the Beautiful. Days when she would miss, she could ask me what happened in the previous episode. We were all invested. Missing out was out of the question.
As we upgraded to colour TV, so too did the diversity of programmes. Kenya Television Network (KTN), Nation TV, eventually becoming NTV, and Citizen TV began to compete for our attention.
Unlike my elder siblings, I looked forward to the cartoons. Monday, 101 Dlamatians. I can’t quite recall what Tuesday had for us. Wednesday, X-Men. Thursday, Justice League. Friday, Batman of the Future. These cartoons changed over time until, at some point, Fridays had American Dragon and Jacob Two-Two. At night, Monday was Keifer Sutherland’s 24. Tuesday, Prison Break. I can’t recall what Wednesday and Thursday had, but Friday was the Survivor Series.
Pretty soon, Citizen TV began its wave of soap operas. That’s when I started nurturing a beef with them. Every weekday, they had Storm Over Paradise. It meant on Tuesday, I was the only one who wanted to watch Prison Break. Overpowered, I began missing episodes. FOMO was killing me.
Newspapers published programme line-ups, and we locked in. Radios had specific shows at certain times of the day and night. This is how TVs and radios began working as FaaS.
Despite radios having a wide reach, it is slowly growing out of touch. Most of the time, we are on our phones.
Enter stories.
The best example of stories is on Instagram. You can post your story, and it will last for 24 hours before it disappears. It would not be the same as the one in the feed. Instagram stories are a perfect way to spread gossip or limited-edition scoops. If you miss it, you’ve missed it. In the past, it was the elders giving stories by the fireplace; today, it’s on IG.
The same feature was added to WhatsApp after it was acquired by Meta. You may not chat with anyone on WhatsApp, but you will log in to check the stories. You don’t want to miss out. Entertainment is a service. Inject FOMO, and we have FaaS.
Notable differences are that FaaS doesn’t distinguish the physical from the abstract, hardware from software. Without a TV, you’d miss out on the programmes. It was painful sitting with your friends when they discussed the last episode of Secreto de amor or Cuando seas mia. Without a radio, the shows would pass you by. TVs are no longer as popular as phones. Netflix, Amazon Prime, Showmax, and Disney+ are the new forms of audiovisual entertainment.
Radios have also been replaced with streaming platforms and playlists. Those who still want to listen to the stations can tune in through their car stereos or over the phone. Even then, you can lose your phone and still access your IG account through your laptop, with the same services. FaaS does not distinguish software from hardware. The central element is FOMO.
Notifications
I’m not a tough guy, I’m a Flower Boy, them bees get you stung
Oh, nah, nah, nah, yeah, they will buzz for me— Tyler, The Creator
Once everyone has subscribed to the single online circus, you can control their movement. In the past, the circus was a physical show, with a geographic distribution and particular dates. Today, it’s at the palm of our hand.
Phones have newspaper apps, calculators, delivery apps, streaming apps, calendars, diaries, notebooks, all the social media apps, phone directories as phone contact logs, email apps, radios, access to the internet through web browsers. You get the gist.
Each of these apps has notifications. Unless you silence them, notifications have a distinctive ping. And even when you don’t attend to them, they will show that red signal adjacent to the app’s icon. Now that I think about it, they might have chosen the colour red to signal urgency, even when there’s no emergency. They purposely try to convince you of what you may be missing out on.
IG, for instance, will tell you that your recent reel has received 100+ likes. TikTok will alert you to someone who is in your contacts who is also on TikTok. WhatsApp will claim that some of your messages have not been sent or that you have pending ones. We click on them to avoid missing out.
The same apps offer service as SaaS. But they bank on FOMO. They are not just SaaS, they are FaaS.
At work, we have emails. Most will check their email as soon as they start working in case they miss an important message or memo. An email is an admissible document. It could come back to bite you in the rear if you claimed you weren’t informed of any important one that was sent. Emails thus serve as a pervasive FaaS with consequences beyond the usual ones. You could get fired.
The more active ones are the newsletters. A newsletter with a large subscription base can gain revenue by pitching to companies for limited ad space. An email is an intimate space. A chance to get into that space cannot be overlooked. So newsletters sell FaaS to companies and businesses that wish to sell their product to previously untapped markets.
Once you’re done with work or have read all your emails, you would either hop aboard a public means, a cab, or walk home, and then jump to your social media account, to avoid FOMO. Enter influencers.
Influencers and faux influencers
They content create, I despise that
I create content then they tries that— Pusha T
Influencers make the most of FaaS.
Distribution channels are no longer oligopolized. Consider publication companies. The Random Houses and Penguins. These legacy companies prefer reaching out to celebrities to write books, mostly autobiographies, because mega celebrities come with their distribution channels. Ardent fans will buy anything from their favourite artist if it gives them an extra glimpse of them.
Becoming, by Michelle Obama, is an extreme outlier, largely because of Michelle Obama. As much as she is a public figure, we can also argue that she’s an influencer. Public figures would rather distinguish themselves as such, despite or because of their massive influence. Barack Obama, for instance, is a whale of an influencer, but we wouldn’t first identify him by that title. We could say the same about Donald Trump and Elon Musk.
Their distribution channels mean they can peddle their ideas and have a wide reach. They influence. Those who identify with the title, public figure, then make the most of FaaS. Take an example of a product, such as Ace of Spades. JAŸ-Z, not an influencer, per se, but as an iconic example of a figure with massive influence, switched from Crystal to Ace of Spades. He had his reasons. Fans of the hip-hop icon followed en masse. They wouldn’t want to miss the experience associated with partaking of the drink.
Any other influencer does the same thing. They sell the experience of the product to their audience. As a fan, you would want to follow suit and experience what the influencer is advertising. Missing out is missing what they have chosen to share with you. FaaS. The sponsor company then pays the influencer.
For the sake of driving the point home, we can consider anyone with a massive audience an influencer. Distribution is no longer owned in large blocks by companies, but by individuals. Discovery has taken a new tangent. Media whales almost went extinct. They avoided this fate by riding on the wave of influencers.
One influencer I know personally, who goes by the name Kenani, offers budget-friendly solutions to looking good. During harsh economic times, you may want to preserve a decent look with a modest budget. You wouldn’t want to miss out. Kenani offers FaaS in this regard.
Then there are those who mimic what the major influencers do. Kim Kardashian will post their look just before heading out to the club. Girls will do the same. It will be shared on their stories, on IG and WhatsApp. The goal is to make anyone who is not going where they are feel the pinch, the FOMO.
FOMO has taken on a different meaning nowadays. It is an admission of regret before an event happens. It’s so painful that it can be confused as POMO (I have invented this one; I don’t know if it exists) — Pain Of Missing Out.
Concerts have taken this concept to another level. Rather than enjoy the performance of an artist, as soon as they hit the stage, everyone takes out their phones (not me) to record.
I am not an artist, but I feel like it may be a circus of sorts, with a creature of unmatched talent paraded before multitudes and told to showcase their talent. In the past, the artist would enjoy the interaction with their fans, experiencing the love there and then, creating a lasting moment. Both the artist and the audience participated in the creation. Now it’s a single person or a band, being recorded live, by thousands of people, who can’t wait to share it on their stories on IG or WhatsApp.
They then make sure everyone who didn’t attend feels it. POMO, a harsher version of FOMO. Influencers can do it and earn from their posts. Others merely copy. While imitation is a sincere form of flattery, in this case, it approves of the value of FaaS; it is so valuable that others, the faux influencers, do it.
Faux influencers don’t have a big audience, but they will copy the major ones, with the hope that they too make it big. They will tag, mention, and even attack the influencers just so they can get their attention. FaaS has that much traction. Unlike SaaS, you cannot tag an app and expect to gain followers, status, or reactions.
Live performances have been operating at the level of modern-day influencers. Miss a live concert, and you will never see it again. It’s like the finals of a World Cup or the 100-meter final. And this same feature is extending to the most popular word today — AI.
New ideas and AI ventures
Came back for the money, that’s the Devil in me
Had to hide it from the church, that’s the Jekyll in me
I never thought twice what the pressure would be
’Cause niggas’ chains look just like oppression to me— Malice
Want funding for your startup? Mention how it incorporates AI.
AI has penetrated almost any online venture you can think of. During COVID-19, the world woke up to the reality that much of our physical activities can be converted into remote, online activities. Coachella does YouTube streams. Doctors offer tele-consultations. Delivery apps bring food to your doorstep. Meetings need not be physical. Universities can transition modules online. Heck, I graduated through Zoom. Full disclosure: I hated that.
AI has shifted the game. And companies don’t want to be left out. AI leaders in the field are pitching it to investors that once the ship sails, there is no going back. It’s painful to hear stories of a large company overlooking the possibilities of a huge win. IBM is a classic example.
Thus, Nvidia, Oracle, Amazon, Tesla, Microsoft, Meta, Google, all want to be recorded in history books as having contributed towards generating the first AGI or ASI. The FOMO is so potent that Anthropic and OpenAI can continue to get funding despite the preposterous revenues and pitches.
There were claims that AI would cure cancer. It hasn’t. Others pitched that it would improve human longevity. It didn’t. The world is waking up to the fact that LLMs sought massive funds that didn’t yield much besides hopes and dreams, and an aggressive team of investors who didn’t want to miss out on the potential pot of gold.
OpenAI and Anthropic sold FaaS.
It’s a popular trend when a new idea steps into the limelight. Consider electric vehicles. After the Strait of Hormuz was shut, countries heavily reliant on fuel took a big uppercut punch. Those who had begun the evangelism of electric vehicles are now waving the I-told-you-so flag.
It reveals that FOMO is not abstract. It is so real. Anyone who pitches something new can cite these examples to add to the veracity of their claim.
New ideas try to sell their concept of FaaS to investors, hoping they secure funding. And the investment world is alchemy. Nothing is set in stone. You make a decision and work to make sure those who dismissed you understand that they made a mistake. FOMO can be cultured, nurtured, and harnessed to propel ideas, concepts, and ventures. I can’t think of any new bold idea that matches the example of AI.
Rather than consider alternative options, like real-world models, sunk costs convince investors that they are a sliver away from the real deal. So they double down and hold tight to LLMs.
Remember that child and the LEGO pieces?
Better yet, think of a dog. You could have raised it, watched as it grew from a puppy into an adult. And yet, when you try to remove a bone from its grasp, it will fight you. It will forget that you’re its caregiver.
Derival super-reaction does not necessarily have to happen just before you acquire something of value; it can manifest when you see it slip from you. And that’s what investors imagine every time the AI evangelists preach that AGI is around the corner. Thinking it may elude them the moment they withdraw their investment is painful enough.
In a word, FaaS.
What I’m trying to say is…
Fear of missing out is so potent that Robert Cialdini included it as one of the powerful ways of persuasion. In our online, virtual world, FOMO has dominated.
Some have even stretched the concept further to users by taking them through a peaceful phase, where their service operates seamlessly, then throwing massive ads, the phase we all call enshittification, and then asking for a subscription fee to continue serving them as they once did, peacefully. That’s a malicious way of using FaaS.
But hey, it works.
This song inspired some of the lines used in this essay. Source — YouTube