FOMO: The Power of Missing Out

Hey there, everyone. Brendan here once again, writing to you about something that I think we can all relate to, even if we aren't always aware of it. The concept of FOMO is one that comes up more and more in our digital world; it's an acronym for "fear of missing out" and is often used to describe time-sensitive offers or sales. The best example that I can think of is the vortex of advertisements for big box retailers on Black Friday, and how they manage to get people in the door with "one night only" deals. 

In that context, it's essentially a weaponized form of social anxiety, which doesn't sound very pleasant. As described in Faith Hill's recent article from The Atlantic, however, there's more than one type of FOMO out there, and like many things that appear negative on first glance, even FOMO has its potential positive uses. I wanted to go into that a bit today, as well as sharing my own experience with the concept and how to distinguish between the positive and negative types. 

"Wish I'd Been There!"

As I've talked about previously in these blogs, I am on the autism spectrum. Among other things, that affects my ability to engage with other people socially; it doesn't negate the desire to participate, but it does impede my confidence and ability to do so as neurotypical people might. As a result, I've missed out on some of those more archetypal social experiences, particularly back in school before I understood my condition as well as I do now. It's kind of the cost of doing business as an autistic person, and I've come to accept that although my road to the present was different, I got here in the end. 

That said, I certainly experienced a lot of FOMO when it comes to those experiences, and even now, with the benefit of hindsight on just how small those things were in the grand scheme of life, I still feel like I missed out a bit. The FOMO that most people experience, though, is much more rooted in the present, and based mostly around marketing for corporations. I'm sure just about everyone can imagine a few concerts they missed out on because of prior engagements and the like, and can recall the urgency with which they felt pressured to go-- "they might never tour again", "this could be your last chance to see them," etc. Things like that apply, to a lesser degree, to many other aspects of life as well; limited-time menu items at restaurants, flash sales on sites like Amazon, and so much more. 

This kind of FOMO is to some degree inherently exploitative of our nature as human beings to want to be and feel included. We don't want to miss out on things because the lament of "what could have been" is an almost universal anxiety. FOMO can be used to capitalize on our basest emotions, but it also has its uses as a personal tool for betterment and self-awareness. 

Crossing The Atlantic

Faith Hill wrote about the idea of using FOMO in a positive way not too long ago. It's a brief but enjoyable read, and goes into how she utilizes that fear of missing out as a motivator to overcome her own social anxieties, among other things, in order to develop new experiences outside her comfort zone. One of the things I found most enlightening about Hill's piece was her use of the counter-term JOMO, or joy of missing out. It's the idea that you cannot truly have what she described as "ideal number of enlightening, spiritually fulfilling plans" in your schedule, no matter how much you try, so instead of optimizing your life to tap into everything you can, you should do what personally fulfills you.It's the idea that you don't need to necessarily experience every given thing with people or to participate in every event. As Hill describes it, "I feel deeply haunted by the thought that... my one wild and precious life will be devoid of a joyful, transformative event" if I don't attend something. 

I do personally disagree with Hill's somewhat flippant dismissal of FOMO's more entrenched negative perception. She describes how the term was originally coined in 2004, the proto-social media era that feels like it was a century ago by comparison to the cultural currents of today. Patrick McGinnis, the man who first came up with the term, did so in a satirical way, analyzing the ever-bustling nature of his contemporaries as they sought to attend a seemingly infinite number of social functions. This more humorous origin belies the malevolence with which the concept is sometimes employed, particularly in marketing; there are ongoing discussions about FOMO's nature as an exploitative tool, particularly involving neurodivergent people. 

With that said, just as Hill mentioned JOMO, so McGinnis made sure to distinguish to some degree the different types of FOMO that he believes exist. He described them as "aspirational" and "herd" FOMO. It's the former that is worth engaging with more often, Hill writes, as the 'tap on the shoulder' that can help prompt you to go beyond your anxieties. As she describes it: "Each time you act on aspirational FOMO, you get more data about what you enjoy, what matters to you, what’s worth making time for. In that sense, FOMO-driven action might lead you to feel less FOMO overall." It's a tool that can help you better understand yourself, in other words, and I certainly agree that that's something we should all continually aspire to. In my mind, honestly, that's no small part of the purpose of our lives; to define as well as we can the best and most comprehensive versions of ourselves, and to utilize our talents and skills to help those around us. In that way, aspirational FOMO is useful, in a "nothing ventured, nothing gained" kind of way. 

Not every experience we have necessarily "ages well" in our minds (Who hasn't been drifting off to sleep and suddenly been jolted awake by a cringe-inducing memory? That's not just a me thing, I hope!). Still, even though there are things we felt induced by FOMO anxiety to participate in that may not have been worth the hype, they were still learning experiences. Something that has aged well, I would argue, is that line from Ferris Bueller that kept looping in my head like a scratched CD while I was writing this blog: "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” It's a lot easier said than done, but try and find your blend of what fits for you; missing out on something isn't the end of the world, so much as it can be the start of a different one. Or something like that, I don't know. Anyways, buy some Nakee Butter! Thanks for reading, everyone. This is Brendan, signing off.