Behavioural Economics Series - Scarcity: Leveraging Limited Resources (& Tinder)
Scarcity isn’t just a marketing ploy—sometimes, it’s a real factor in mental health resources or specialised AI capabilities. Conjure, if you will, a premium feature that connects you to a live therapist augmented by AI insights, but only so many slots exist each week. That constraint can heighten the perceived value, ensuring that those who sign up are truly motivated to engage.
If a premium feature connects you to a live therapist with the kind of AI integrations many of us have come to expect in any kind of virtual meeting, but only 3 are left, this increases perceived value. With a little luck, those who then sign up are truly motivated to engage. It's only when we really want something that we bring our full presence.
It is difficult to really want something that is ubiquitous. If you've used online dating apps, you'll know the contrast: 100 matches, 99 nothings. The initial match is exciting, at least for a while. If you severely curb your use of the app, you might keep that voltage potential alive. Over-do it, and each match decreases in value proportionately to the number you. It's standard market dynamics, intruding into your search for love.
Here's a little visual from my kitchen you can twiddle with:
This phenomenon explains why limiting app usage might actually enhance your experience: by creating artificial scarcity, you maintain the excitement and significance of each connection.
It do be like that sometimes.
The matches only give rise to fire if there is chemistry, and it takes two to tango. In a way, you could say that is chemistry squared: the fun of romantic chemistry arises from the mutual reciprocity of positive feedback. Chemistry, times chemistry.
Your excitement is therefore constrained by the number of matches, but only if those matches have chemistry. You are far better nourished by a few matches with great chemistry than you are with scores of a brief "how are you? x", aka scarcity -it not only matters, but can make you happy. Unfortunately, the shadow side is also true: if it took a thousand experiments to produce but one chemical worth a sip, the scarcity factor remains. Until you get that hit, all you've got is 10 boxes of matches and no fire.
That's no way to live.
Or manipulate others.
Either way, excitement = matches * chemistry^2.
E = mc2
Put more eloquently:
I thought that was pretty cool. But back to the point.
Artificial scarcity purely for hype can backfire in a domain as sensitive as mental well-being. Often health providers are deliberately sought out as opposed to being the end result of a sales funnel. If where they land feels more like Primark during the summer sale than a warm therapists front office they would understandably have reason to walk away. No chemistry, no match, no excitement.
Perhaps instead, we can design products that make scarcity a genuine feature of resource allocation. For instance, a pilot program might only accommodate a certain number of participants to guarantee high-quality feedback loops and thorough personalisation. Shameless plug: a pilot program like this one.
Take it from me: when you introduce users to your creation, you're about to experience a rather steep introduction into just how many things you didn't think about: the unknown unknowns.
One of many challenges here is accepting that market dynamics are inevitable; we not only need to accept them, but use them for the betterment of all. Much like facing ourselves, it is almost always better to known the unknown than leave it that way. A process synonymous with the words of this rather astute fellow:
One of the reasons I practice the way I do is it really does seem to me that science, story and spirit are converging towards a future where we can ascertain the truth, or at least the truth about what works.
It's either that, or I've already left the building.
E = mc^2 + AI
— Andrej Karpathy (@karpathy) May 30, 2023
😂😂😂
t-shirt meme potential https://t.co/H8x4EoMvfZ
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