In Monday’s “3 Articles,” I shared a piece which advises readers on how to make friends after the age of 30. There was one particular quote that I kept thinking about:
The American Time Use Survey started in 2003, and between 2003 and 2013, people spent basically the same amount of time with their friends. They spend slightly less than seven hours [per week] with friends. If you expand the definition of friends to include family and neighbors and coworkers outside of work, that whole set of people—including your friends, companions—they spent about 15 hours. And then in 2014, we started slowly kind of ticking down. And by 2021, we have this data, we’re spending less than three hours [per week] with our friends, we’re spending less than 10 hours with our companions, and what are we doing with that time we used to spend with our friends and companions? We’re now spending it alone. We’ve increased the amount of time we spend alone by almost 10 hours.
Of course, this begs the question of why. You could argue that there are more interesting things to do alone than ever before thanks to the proliferation of online content. You could also argue that this is just what we got used to during COVID, and people just have a different approach to the world now.
I’d like to suggest an additional theory. Another factor which may be coming into play. This is purely anecdotal - no evidence, just opinions:
What if we’re all trying to avoid FOMO?
FOFOMO
A term I made up. It’s a fear of a fear of missing out. Basically, the 2010s were dominated by a form of social media which pressured people to get out into the world, but the 2020s are dominated by a form of social media which allows us to feel secure in our lack of socialization.
We all know that, FOMO is much older than the digital age. I have no doubt that there was some poor Greek teenager who had to stay home and watch her brother while the others went to get drunk at the theater, or some poor medieval peasant who had to stay home and watch her brother while the others went to get drunk at the fair, or some poor 1970s teenager who had to stay home and watch her brother while the others went to get drunk at a concert.
People have always partied, and people have always been excluded or unable to participate, and it sucked. But what else were you gonna do, if you wanted to escape the cycle? Read a book? There was nothing as fun as being surrounded by other people, and so everyone tolerated the occasional FOMO so that they could stay in the loop and participate whenever they had the chance.
Now, it’s possible to basically block out what your friends are up to and just watch a bunch of strangers. And that’s not just on TikTok; Facebook and Instagram are continuing to show a higher and higher proportion of ads and corporate posts, instead of personal pictures and thoughts from people you follow. Maybe some people feel differently, but when I see some influencer vlogging their VIP experience at Coachella or some star-studded event, I’m not exactly sitting in a huff and lamenting the fact that I’m at home instead.
Honestly, I think that a lot of people are happy this way, because of FOFOMO. When we do see friends, it’s on our terms. When we don’t see friends, we don’t have to fight through the insecurity of wondering what people are up to. Instead, we can enjoy the non-threatening antics of perfect strangers, people who we will never really compare ourselves to.
Sometimes, I feel like there’s less of a common culture. As a kid, I was not super plugged into things like sports or popular music, and I felt that. In class, other boys would be talking about a big moment in a football game, or a new song they liked, and I’d be clueless. I never did a great job of attaching myself to pop culture, but that was absolutely a quality social strategy until very recently.
If you saw the biggest movies, the awards shows, the popular TV shows, and just paid attention to other big things, you could find a way to fit in.
However, there aren’t any “big cultural things” anymore, or they’re very rare, at the very least. Occasionally, a TV show or two will cut through the absolute hurricane of content at our fingertips, or some big must-see moment will occur. But it’ll tear through social media and be eaten up in a matter of days.
The goal now is to stand out. Be your own brand. Be different. Get noticed.
While it’s good to encourage individualism, I wonder if all of us are gradually lowering our expectations for inclusion because we have less and less common threads with the average person.
If this sounds kind of sad, I think that FOFOMO may balance it out for a lot of people. What’s the point of having things in common with big groups of people if they’re just going to exclude you? I have a feeling that there are people who see real appeal in niche cultures or small friend groups because there’s more control and less to do, so you’re less likely to run into FOMO scenarios.
Personally, I have a fear of FOFOMO (FOFOFOMO?). I don’t want to spend all my time alone.1 I’d rather occasionally have plans fall through or feel unwanted than risk closing myself off socially.
At the same time, I know very well that rejection and exclusion deeply suck, and you can’t force people to put themselves in that kind of position. I encourage all of you to do what’s right for you. However, if you do think you might be suffering from FOFOMO, I’m always here to talk it out.
Wishing you all a wonderful Wednesday!
Ironic, from the guy who lives alone.
“Instead, we can enjoy the non-threatening antics of perfect strangers, people who we will never really compare ourselves to.” One of my favorite one-liners from this piece. So true.
I don’t envy influencers and celebrities (at least, not like I once did as a younger lad). Their lives feel so different — and exhausting. Maybe it’s just growing up. I feel more and more eager to embrace normality.
After all, I can always live vicariously through perfect strangers whose lives I don’t actually wish to experience first-hand.