From the time we're young, we absorb unspoken expectations about when things should happen: graduate by ___, build a career by ___, marry by ___, peak professionally by ___, retire by ___. None of this is written anywhere, yet these "life scripts" quietly shape how we judge our progress and, more dangerously, what we allow ourselves to want. And in a culture fascinated with youth, we begin to equate timing with value.
Lately, I have been feeling a little FOBO. With the rise of AI, I worry about my contribution to the field. My FOBO stems from another FOBO: If my clients and my editor start opting for better, faster, and cheaper options, what happens to me? I can feel my FOBLO rising. Given my FOPO, my FOMU will probably trigger FODA. I won't change, I won't adapt, I won't do anything, leaving me with full-blown FOBA in a world that has already moved on.
Shattered expectations line the pathway to disappointment. How many times have you gotten your hopes up for a delicious new fast food item, only to find out it's not available in your area? This happens in rural communities all the time, but even big cities don't always get the hottest new thing. This is exactly what happened to one eager McDonald's fan in Chicago, who posted on Reddit about his city's lack of Crispy Chicken McGriddles.
It's another finding that illustrates both the pitfalls of rapid AI adoption, as well as the outrageous outpouring of hype that drowns out criticisms of the tech in business circles. Many companies have gambled on replacing their employees with AI agents, only to eat crow when the tech falls flat and they're forced to rehire humans. One MIT study found that an embarrassing 95 percent of companies that incorporated AI saw no meaningful growth in revenue.
Viral campaigns do not just occur incidentally. The most memorable ones are the ones that tend to touch the feelings that people already have, such as community pride, excitement, curiosity, or the excitement of winning something that no one is expecting to win. The street culture and casinos are two worlds that are more aware of this than others.
Most of my adult life has revolved around music: clubs, bars, festivals, house parties anywhere I could dance to loud music. I loved how energising and cathartic it was to get immersed in it, to lose myself a little and move my body expressively without judgment. I'd get so absorbed that I would lose track of time; once, at Burning Man, I was awake for 36 hours exploring the festival, meeting new people and partying.
Between last-minute weekend trips, fun dinners and the endless scroll of friends' social media highlight reels, it's easy to find ourselves swept into a season of "yes." Yes to the concert. Yes to the extra round. Yes to that shirt we didn't know we "needed" until five minutes ago. By fall, the glow starts to fade, and the bills start to arrive.
