Latest news with #PatrickMcGinnis
Forbes
29-05-2025
- Business
- Forbes
How Leaders Guide Teams Through FOBO In The AI Anxiety Era
Every headline about artificial intelligence capabilities, every automation announcement, every ... More discussion about the future of work comes with an undercurrent of existential anxiety. Every headline about artificial intelligence capabilities, every automation announcement, every discussion about the future of work comes with an undercurrent of existential anxiety that wasn't there just a few years ago. FOBO—the Fear of Becoming Obsolete—is the latest workplace contagion, and if you're honest, you may be feeling it yourself. Gallup research shows 22% of U.S. workers now worry that technological advancement will render them professionally obsolete, up from just 15% three years ago. But FOBO is an opportunity to lead through uncertainty in a way that unlocks creativity and allows new possibilities to emerge. Ironically, FOBO's original meaning itself has become obsolete. The author and entrepreneur Patrick McGinnis originally coined the acronym in 2004 as "Fear of Better Options,' a shorthand for the decision paralysis that comes from too many choices. The original Fear of Better Options was about what philosopher Alain de Botton called "status anxiety"—anxiety about not keeping up with social expectations. While these fears can cause genuine distress, the new Fear of Becoming Obsolete points toward something more primal, a threat closer to the foundation of our hierarchy of needs and about identity, purpose and survival. And if you're leading people right now, you've probably seen it manifesting in your teams in different ways: the usually confident team member who's suddenly resistant to new technology implementations, the high performer who's quietly started looking for jobs in "AI-proof" industries, or the person who's frantically signing up for every certification course available, sprinting hard but without clear direction. You're seeing it in other signals: the tightness in someone's shoulders during AI strategy meetings, the way conversations about automation shift the energy in the room, or how people's voices change when they talk about their future relevance. This is where your opportunity as a leader lies. The solution is helping people move from the contracted state of fear to the expanded state of creative engagement. As I've written about before, it's about embracing what the poet John Keats called "negative capability," the capacity to remain in uncertainty without rushing toward premature solutions. Embracing negative capability moves us beyond the fear of unknown and creates the conditions where creativity becomes possible in times of doubt. Here's what's happening physiologically when FOBO takes hold: your brain's ancient threat-detection system kicks in, flooding your body with stress hormones designed for physical dangers that no longer exist. The result? Those primitive "fight, flight, or freeze" responses that served our ancestors well against saber-toothed tigers become maladaptive strategies for navigating technological complexity. You've probably seen all three: Fight manifests as aggressive resistance to change—the person who argues against every new technological initiative, not because they have better ideas, but because the change itself feels threatening. Flight appears as strategic avoidance—talented people leaving industries or companies, not toward something better, but away from technological uncertainty. Freeze emerges as analysis paralysis—the leader who endlessly researches AI strategies but never moves forward, or the employee who stops contributing ideas because they're afraid of revealing their technological ignorance. These threat responses shut down precisely the cognitive functions we need most right now: creative thinking, complex problem-solving, and collaborative innovation. The irony is brutal—the fear of becoming irrelevant creates the very conditions that make us less adaptable. It can be tempting to respond to FOBO with decisive action—to make a plan and charge towards a goal, perhaps regaining a sense of control in the process. At a recent Hudson conference, organizațional leadership researcher and executive coach, Dr. Amanda Blake, warned us that 'pursuit' can mimic the physiological response of fight or flight, causing a similar state of hyperarousal and making us less creative and resilient. Instead, she challenged us to connect with our sense of emergence, wonder, and possibility in moments of uncertainty. As a leader, your primary job isn't to drive your team through the technological uncertainty. Your role is to help them navigate it with their full creative capacity intact. You're not just managing strategy; you're stewarding human potential through a period of change. Think about the last time you felt genuinely creative and alive at work. You weren't in fight-flight-freeze mode. You were probably relaxed but alert, curious rather than defensive, connected to others rather than isolated. That's the neurological state where innovation happens, and it's exactly what FOBO destroys. Your opportunity is to become skilled at recognizing when people are operating from threat responses and knowing how to guide them back to creative engagement. Amanda Blake's work reveals that we can't just think our way out of threat responses. We have to embody our way out. When someone is locked in FOBO, their posture often reflects it—shoulders raised, breathing shallow, jaw clenched. Their nervous system is primed for danger, not discovery. When people are stuck in threat responses, they literally can't access their prefrontal cortex—the brain region responsible for creative thinking. But conscious breathing can help to shift nervous system states within a few minutes. Coaching people to embrace negative capability is essential. When dealing with FOBO, it manifests as the ability to: Part of what's needed is narrating uncertainty effectively. Instead of binary communication ("We either know what AI will do to our jobs or we don't"), try more nuanced framing: "Here's what we know with high confidence about these technological changes, what we know with medium confidence, and what remains genuinely unclear." This creates permission to not have all the answers while maintaining forward momentum. There are three invitations leaders can offer their direct reports: People feeling FOBO fixate on what they might lose. Your job is to consistently redirect attention toward what they might create, discover, or become. Instead of asking "How do we protect ourselves from AI disruption?" try "What becomes possible for us as humans when AI handles routine tasks?" This all requires strategic patience, creating reflective space rather than rushing toward solutions. When teams are grappling with technological uncertainty, resist pressure to immediately resolve every question. Sometimes, the most valuable thing you can do is allocate thinking time or structured periods where the goal isn't immediate resolution but depth of understanding. You'll know you're succeeding when you see the shift from fear-based to growth-based responses in your people: Instead of defensive resistance, you'll see curious engagement with new technologies. Instead of desperate pivoting, you'll see thoughtful skill development. Instead of isolation and anxiety, you'll see collaborative exploration of emerging possibilities. The person who was frantically collecting certifications starts asking deeper questions about how to apply their learning. The team member who was avoiding AI tools begins experimenting with how they might enhance rather than replace their work. The leader who was paralyzed by technological complexity starts making informed decisions about which innovations to pursue. This isn't about eliminating fear—some healthy concern about the future is adaptive. It's about helping people engage with uncertainty from a place of strength rather than weakness, creativity rather than reactivity. Your greatest contribution as a leader isn't having all the answers about technology. It's helping people access their own creative responses to an uncertain future. The question isn't "How do we avoid becoming obsolete?" The question is "How do we help people flourish as distinctly human contributors in an increasingly technological world?"
Yahoo
05-02-2025
- General
- Yahoo
You've Heard Of FOMO, But What Is 'FOBO'? Here's How To Spot This Damaging Issue.
The concept of FOMO is widely known these days. This term for 'the fear of missing out' even made it into dictionaries starting in 2013. But fewer people are familiar with a related and similarly potent force: FOBO. If you're someone who agonizes over every big and small decision (even after the choice has been made), then you're probably well acquainted with the experience of FOBO. That doesn't mean it's a good thing, however. Below, experts break down the definition and mental health implications of FOBO ― and share their advice for keeping it at bay. 'FOBO, or fear of a better option, is the anxiety that something better will come along, which makes it undesirable to commit to existing choices when making a decision,' author and venture capitalist Patrick McGinnis told HuffPost. 'This specifically refers to decisions where there are perfectly acceptable options in front of us, yet we struggle to choose just one.' McGinnis coined the term FOBO, as well as FOMO, back in 2004 when he was a student at Harvard Business School and wrote an article titled 'Social Theory at HBS: McGinnis' Two FOs.' He believes that FOBO is 'an affliction of abundance.' Our on-demand world overwhelms us with seemingly endless choices, thus compelling us to keep all our options open and hedge our bets. 'It's that nagging feeling that makes you hesitate or downright freeze up when faced with a decision, especially if there are several options available, worried that a better ― or even perfect ― choice might be out there and come along at any second,' said life coach and entrepreneur Tomas Svitorka. 'Whether it's picking something from the menu at a restaurant, choosing a vacation spot or, in more serious cases, deciding on a life partner, FOBO thrives on the question: 'What if there's something even better out there?'' This extreme risk aversion leads to overanalyzing and procrastinating ― the point of potentially never making an actual decision. Basically, it's a recipe for indecision and 'analysis paralysis' as people draw out the process of making choices and hesitate to commit. 'As a result, you live in a world of maybes, stringing yourself and others along,' McGinnis explained. 'Rather than assessing your options, choosing one, and moving on with your day, you delay the inevitable. It's not unlike hitting the snooze button on your alarm clock only to pull the covers over your head and fall back asleep … over and over and over.' 'FOBO is a serious problem that can inflict far more damage than FOMO,' McGinnis noted. 'Unlike FOMO, which is largely an internal struggle that mostly hurts you, the costs of FOBO aren't just borne by you, they are also imposed on those around you.' People with FOBO tend to alienate their friends, families, business associates and potential romantic partners because people eventually lose faith that they will actually ever make a decision. 'When you treat your life like a Tinder feed, swiping with reckless abandon without ever committing to any of the potential options, you send a clear and unambiguous message to everyone else: You are the ultimate holdout,' McGinnis said. 'You won't set a clear course or commit to a plan of action. Instead, you will let the possibilities pile up and only make a decision when it suits you, likely at the last minute, if at all.' The concept of FOBO is based in what he described as 'an erroneous belief that the longer we look, the more options we will have, and this will somehow lead to a better outcome.' However, there's no way to guarantee that, and instead, people may will wait so long they actually start to lose good options and end up wishing they had made a choice sooner. 'FOBO usually shows up as an endless pros and cons list running in your head,' Svitorka said. 'Of course, thinking through major decisions is not a bad thing. One should take time and make the right choice. However, when FOBO gets involved, this doesn't happen, and we keep running back and forth, unable to decide, usually for that elusive 'what if.'' Another cause of FOBO is simply the growing number of options that people have access to in our modern world. 'For example, you know you want to listen to a podcast, and when you go to search for something captivating, you are presented with thousands of topics and episodes,' said licensed marriage and family therapist Becky Stuempfig. 'Or you need a new toothbrush and you head toward the toothbrush aisle to find 50 different types of toothbrushes, all with different features and price points. Many people experience this with food shopping. For example, you're looking for peanut butter and you're faced with countless options: Creamy? Crunchy? No stir? Organic? Salted? Nonsalted?' She noted that FOBO reaches the point of becoming a problem more often in people living privileged lives with access to more opportunities. Still, anyone can experience it to some extent. 'It is a normal and healthy reaction to feel exhausted by what feels like an endless amount of options for almost every decision that needs to be made, often causing decision fatigue,' Stuempfig said. 'While some degree of this is within a normal, expected range, it can become damaging to someone's mental health when it prevents forward progress on life issues.' FOBO can be contagious as well, she added. If you develop a pattern of avoidance at work, you might find yourself following a similar path when it comes to household decisions or family matters. And certain experiences or backgrounds might lead to severe FOBO. 'A person may have a pre-existing anxiety disorder, a traumatic history that they attribute to a wrong decision, or it can be learned behavior from their family of origin,' said Racine Henry, a licensed marriage and family therapist. Constantly second-guessing yourself and living in limbo causes stress, exhaustion and anxiety. Meanwhile, the idea of feeling peace and contentment with your life and choices can become an elusive dream. 'Mentally, FOBO can contribute to anxiety and depression, as the constant search for better options prevents individuals from fully enjoying their present circumstances,' said psychologist Patricia Dixon. 'This mindset fosters dissatisfaction and can erode self-trust, leading to procrastination and indecisiveness. In relationships, this fear can hinder personal growth and connection. ' FOBO can wreak havoc on things that were once a source of joy. You might have enjoyed reading novels, but constantly struggling to choose your next book sucks the enjoyment out of the experience. The affliction manifests in many ways. 'FOBO can lead to an anxiety or personality disorder developing, the symptoms could result in loss of appetite and sleep, which could lead to physical illnesses,' Henry said. 'Additionally, there could be loss of opportunity or relationship if the decision to be made is about taking a job or accepting a marriage proposal, for example.' 'To combat FOBO, it's essential to shift your mindset about choices,' Dixon said. 'Embrace the idea that your decisions may be the best for the moment, even if alternatives arise later.' Rather than viewing other options as inherently better, she recommended recognizing them as simply different. This perspective can encourage you to make decisions and own them instead of waiting for something better. And remember that you can always pivot and adapt in the future as new options emerge. Dixon also pointed to the role of social media in exacerbating FOBO by fostering a culture of constant comparisons and a sense that there are always endless better options. 'To break this cycle, it's crucial to cultivate self-trust and listen to your instincts,' she said. 'Often, the allure of 'the grass being greener' is a facade that distracts us from appreciating the value of our current choices.' If you feel like the anxiety and stress related to FOBO are consuming your life, consider seeking support from a mental health professional. Counseling can also help you work through big decisions. 'Besides going to therapy, other possible solutions could look like involving others who you trust to weigh in on your decision or creating a plan for both sides of the decision to be made,' Henry suggested. 'Really ask yourself 'what could I be losing/gaining?', 'what if the better option comes along?', 'does this current decision have to be permanent?', 'can I afford to not take this job?'' Svitorka similarly advised assessing the risk and reversibility of making choices. Keep in mind that most decisions aren't permanent. 'You might be surprised how often you can course-correct,' Svitorka said. 'If the pizza topping wasn't as magical as you hoped, well, there's always next time. Even with bigger things like jobs, if the job offer turns out to be less dreamy than promised, well, you can look for another job. It wasn't going to be your last job anyway.' He also recommended creating your own predetermined rules, like always opt for the healthier dish or slightly cheaper cocktail when overwhelmed by menus. Considering your long-term vision and values ― like living a healthy lifestyle and saving money ― and making decisions in accordance with those can help you feel more confident. Don't be afraid to sample different options over time, too. Rather than ruminating in your head, get out there and be brave enough to just try things. You'll get a better sense of what's right for you. And when in doubt, just trust your gut. 'Our subconscious can piece together more than we realize from small cues, giving us that subtle nudge,' Svitorka said. 'If you sense a 'pull' toward one choice (or a sense of unease), listen to it.' Flipping a coin can also be helpful, he added. Pay attention to how you feel before you look at the result ― do you hope it lands on heads? What about your reaction when you see the answer? Do you wish it had been tails? These feelings may point to your actual decision. For higher stakes decisions, Stuempfig suggested consulting with supportive loved ones, specifically an odd number of people to break any ties. At the very least, the exercise can help create forward momentum. 'To counteract FOBO, the key is to simplify,' she said. 'I encourage people to consider simplifying their options at the very beginning of the decision-making process by distilling options down to two to three options. From there, the next step is changing the mindset from expecting no future regrets to allowing a small amount of regret, knowing that a small amount of regret is part of making a choice rather than a reflection of a poor decision.' It's unreasonable to expect a decision to come with no regrets or that you will know with 100% certainty that it's the 'right' choice. Living with a little uncertainty is just part of the luxury of having lots of options. 'When faced with decisions, it can be helpful to come up with a nonjudgmental, compassionate mantra,' Stuempfig said, offering an example: 'I am grateful for so many options and know that I am exactly where I need to be at this moment in time. I am capable of making this choice and have the skills necessary to handle any possible outcome of my choice.' How To Say No To Social Invitations Without Getting FOMO Feeling Irrationally Upset Over Little Things? Here's What You Should Do. How To Fight The Urge To Always Make Everything About Yourself
Yahoo
30-01-2025
- General
- Yahoo
FOMO Is Good for You
I have a joke I like to make—though it's not funny, and it's not really a joke. Whenever I know I won't be able to join my friends the next time they hang out, I make everyone promise to not have fun without me. Sometimes I have us go around in a circle so that each person can individually pledge to have a bad time. If I check in after my absence and ask how the night was, I expect a shrug, perhaps an assurance that It was fine, but you didn't miss much. If someone says the time without me was great, I actually find that rude. I don't think I'm the center of the universe, nor do I want to get in the way of my friends' happiness. No—I just have chronic FOMO: 'fear of missing out.' I feel deeply haunted by the thought that if I don't go to the party or the dinner or the coffee stroll, my one wild and precious life will be void of a joyful, transformative event—one I'd surely still be thinking about on my deathbed, a friend at my side tenderly holding my hand and whispering, Remember? That time we went bowling and the guy in the next lane over said that funny thing? Every year, my New Year's resolution is to keep one night of the week free from social plans. Almost every week, I fail. This is no way to live, you might be thinking. FOMO tends to be described as a dark impulse, something that keeps you from being present as you worry instead about what better option could be around the corner, or scroll miserably through the online evidence of what fun everyone is having without you. A quick Google search yields results nearly all about overcoming or dealing with or coping with the fear of missing out—usually by talking yourself out of it. But I suspect my FOMO may have served me well. Sometimes you need a little anxiety to push you into doing something positive. And if you don't go on the hike or the beach trip or the roller coaster, you quite literally will miss out. Why are we all so set on pretending that's not the case? [Read: Americans need to party more] When the author and speaker Patrick McGinnis coined the term FOMO, he didn't consider the fear a sinister force. He was a wide-eyed business-school student from a small town, surrounded by intellectual, career, and social opportunities. He wanted to say yes to everything, he told me. Once, he tried to go to seven birthday parties in one night. Then 9/11 happened, and he felt an even greater urge to take advantage of every minute. FOMO was a sign of abundant potential—that he could learn, that he could have meaningful experiences, that each day might be different from the one before. 'If you don't believe there's possibility,' he said, 'why would you have FOMO?' The 2004 op-ed in which he named the phenomenon gently poked fun at his fellow business students madly juggling invites. He never guessed that more than a decade later, people would be talking about FOMO with such seriousness (nor, I imagine, studying it with grim rigor, publishing studies with titles such as 'Fear of Missing Out, Need for Touch, Anxiety and Depression Are Related to Problematic Smartphone Use'). The world has changed since 2004, though. Social media began feeding the feeling of always being left out of something. Optimization-and-productivity culture encouraged the idea that one can engineer their schedule to accommodate the ideal number of enlightening, spiritually fulfilling plans. Then, naturally, a backlash arrived. It might be best summed up by a newer term: JOMO, or the 'joy of missing out.' The idea is that you should savor your solitude, fully embrace the choice to do what you want to do rather than what others are doing. Sounds reasonable. And yet, as an introvert, I know that socializing often sounds unappealing before I actually start doing it. What I'm in the mood for isn't a very good gauge of what I should do, or what future me will enjoy. (Let's face it—she's a stranger!) What is a helpful indicator is FOMO: whether I have the uneasy suspicion that if I do what's comfortable, I might not undergo something that would have stretched me or brought me closer to people. Without it, I never would have jumped into the frigid ocean last February for a polar plunge, or gone camping in September with a group of more than 30 people, most of whom I didn't know. I would never do anything after work, when I'm reliably exhausted. That's not to say you should run yourself into the ground trying to do everything. FOMO isn't a master you need to obediently follow but, as McGinnis put it, a 'tap on the shoulder' reminding you that your existence is transient and you need to decide how to spend it. He distinguishes between two types of FOMO. One is 'aspirational FOMO,' which is when you identify an exciting or interesting experience—one that might make your life fuller. Simply imagining that potential reward can lead to the release of dopamine in the brain. The other is 'herd FOMO,' which is the fear of getting left out of a collective encounter—a prospect so appalling that it can trigger a fight-or-flight response, complete with a rushing heartbeat and sweaty palms. 'Part of the brain goes berserk,' McGinnis told me. He thinks that people should lean into the first type, the kind that's about embracing possibility, not avoiding pain. [Read: The easiest way to keep your friends] 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. Many college students, McGinnis said, fear missing out when they first arrive on campus—but this is what can lead them to meet people, discover interests, and ultimately have a better sense of what they don't mind skipping. 'When you're 30 and somebody invites you to a bar and you've been to 4,000 bars,' he told me, 'you have such perfect information about this thing that you can make a decision without even fretting.' I am, admittedly, a FOMO extremist; on the precipice of turning 30, I still feel the need to go to the bar for the 4,001st time. Maybe that's my herd FOMO talking. But I also think that I will never have enough data to know what any given night will be like. Every time, the conversation is a little different; every time, my knowledge of a friend is deepened or complicated, even if that change is barely perceptible. Every so often it turns out that someone really needed me there. The activity isn't the point, after all; I'm not looking to stack my social résumé with pastimes that make it sound like I had fun. I'm trying to spend the time I have with people I love. And I do fear missing out on that. Article originally published at The Atlantic
Atlantic
30-01-2025
- General
- Atlantic
FOMO Is Good for You
I have a joke I like to make—though it's not funny, and it's not really a joke. Whenever I know I won't be able to join my friends the next time they hang out, I make everyone promise to not have fun without me. Sometimes I have us go around in a circle so that each person can individually pledge to have a bad time. If I check in after my absence and ask how the night was, I expect a shrug, perhaps an assurance that It was fine, but you didn't miss much. If someone says the time without me was great, I actually find that rude. I don't think I'm the center of the universe, nor do I want to get in the way of my friends' happiness. No—I just have chronic FOMO: 'fear of missing out.' I feel deeply haunted by the thought that if I don't go to the party or the dinner or the coffee stroll, my one wild and precious life will be void of a joyful, transformative event—one I'd surely still be thinking about on my deathbed, a friend at my side tenderly holding my hand and whispering, Remember? That time we went bowling and the guy in the next lane over said that funny thing? Every year, my New Year's resolution is to keep one night of the week free from social plans. Almost every week, I fail. This is no way to live, you might be thinking. FOMO tends to be described as a dark impulse, something that keeps you from being present as you worry instead about what better option could be around the corner, or scroll miserably through the online evidence of what fun everyone is having without you. A quick Google search yields results nearly all about overcoming or dealing with or coping with the fear of missing out—usually by talking yourself out of it. But I suspect my FOMO may have served me well. Sometimes you need a little anxiety to push you into doing something positive. And if you don't go on the hike or the beach trip or the roller coaster, you quite literally will miss out. Why are we all so set on pretending that's not the case? When the author and speaker Patrick McGinnis coined the term FOMO, he didn't consider the fear a sinister force. He was a wide-eyed business-school student from a small town, surrounded by intellectual, career, and social opportunities. He wanted to say yes to everything, he told me. Once, he tried to go to seven birthday parties in one night. Then 9/11 happened, and he felt an even greater urge to take advantage of every minute. FOMO was a sign of abundant potential—that he could learn, that he could have meaningful experiences, that each day might be different from the one before. 'If you don't believe there's possibility,' he said, 'why would you have FOMO?' The 2004 op-ed in which he named the phenomenon gently poked fun at his fellow business students madly juggling invites. He never guessed that more than a decade later, people would be talking about FOMO with such seriousness (nor, I imagine, studying it with grim rigor, publishing studies with titles such as 'Fear of Missing Out, Need for Touch, Anxiety and Depression Are Related to Problematic Smartphone Use'). The world has changed since 2004, though. Social media began feeding the feeling of always being left out of something. Optimization-and-productivity culture encouraged the idea that one can engineer their schedule to accommodate the ideal number of enlightening, spiritually fulfilling plans. Then, naturally, a backlash arrived. It might be best summed up by a newer term: JOMO, or the 'joy of missing out.' The idea is that you should savor your solitude, fully embrace the choice to do what you want to do rather than what others are doing. Sounds reasonable. And yet, as an introvert, I know that socializing often sounds unappealing before I actually start doing it. What I'm in the mood for isn't a very good gauge of what I should do, or what future me will enjoy. (Let's face it—she's a stranger!) What is a helpful indicator is FOMO: whether I have the uneasy suspicion that if I do what's comfortable, I might not undergo something that would have stretched me or brought me closer to people. Without it, I never would have jumped into the frigid ocean last February for a polar plunge, or gone camping in September with a group of more than 30 people, most of whom I didn't know. I would never do anything after work, when I'm reliably exhausted. That's not to say you should run yourself into the ground trying to do everything. FOMO isn't a master you need to obediently follow but, as McGinnis put it, a 'tap on the shoulder' reminding you that your existence is transient and you need to decide how to spend it. He distinguishes between two types of FOMO. One is 'aspirational FOMO,' which is when you identify an exciting or interesting experience—one that might make your life fuller. Simply imagining that potential reward can lead to the release of dopamine in the brain. The other is 'herd FOMO,' which is the fear of getting left out of a collective encounter—a prospect so appalling that it can trigger a fight-or-flight response, complete with a rushing heartbeat and sweaty palms. 'Part of the brain goes berserk,' McGinnis told me. He thinks that people should lean into the first type, the kind that's about embracing possibility, not avoiding pain. 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. Many college students, McGinnis said, fear missing out when they first arrive on campus—but this is what can lead them to meet people, discover interests, and ultimately have a better sense of what they don't mind skipping. 'When you're 30 and somebody invites you to a bar and you've been to 4,000 bars,' he told me, 'you have such perfect information about this thing that you can make a decision without even fretting.' I am, admittedly, a FOMO extremist; on the precipice of turning 30, I still feel the need to go to the bar for the 4,001st time. Maybe that's my herd FOMO talking. But I also think that I will never have enough data to know what any given night will be like. Every time, the conversation is a little different; every time, my knowledge of a friend is deepened or complicated, even if that change is barely perceptible. Every so often it turns out that someone really needed me there. The activity isn't the point, after all; I'm not looking to stack my social résumé with pastimes that make it sound like I had fun. I'm trying to spend the time I have with people I love. And I do fear missing out on that.
