Georgia’s prime minister, Irakli Kobakhidze, arrived at the World Governments Summit carrying more baggage than most. At home his government is facing sustained street protests and mounting criticism over a parliamentary election that international observers said was competitive but flawed, amid allegations of voter intimidation and uneven enforcement. Abroad, Georgia’s once-clear European trajectory has become muddied. Though granted EU candidate status in late 2023, the country’s accession process has since stalled, with Brussels raising concerns over democratic backsliding, judicial independence and legislation that critics say echoes Russia’s restrictive “foreign agents” laws.
In Dubai, Kobakhidze set out a markedly different picture. He presented Georgia as a pragmatic, peace-minded state navigating life next to a belligerent Russia – one that occupies roughly 20 per cent of Georgian territory – while remaining firmly committed to EU membership. He rejected claims of electoral malpractice, arguing that Georgia outperforms other candidate countries on corruption and democratic standards, and framed strained relations with Brussels as a failure of communication. What is clear from speaking to Monocle is that Georgia’s leadership understands its moment, which is caught between geopolitics, domestic dissent and an increasingly sceptical European audience.
Listen to the full conversation with Kobakhidze on The Globalist. The following interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Prime minister, let’s start with the recent trilateral talks between Russia, Ukraine and the US. Are you optimistic about the outcome?
We are looking forward to the success of the negotiations because there is an ongoing war in our region, in Ukraine, and it affects the situation in Georgia. That’s why we are supportive of any attempts to find the solution for this conflict because peace is crucial for everybody. Peace is crucial for the region and for the Ukrainian people because they are suffering.
We spoke to a very senior diplomat yesterday who shared that the reason they could host these trilateral conversations is because the UAE hasn’t taken a stance in the conflict. Can you tell us a little more about Georgia’s stance and how the positioning evolved over time?
Georgia’s position is clear about this conflict. From the very beginning, we supported all the relevant decisions and resolutions advocating for Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity, and condemning Russia’s military aggression. This position has never changed. We are committed to the international law principles and we are always vocal about that.
We have our own problems. Twenty per cent of our territories are occupied by the Russian Federation. We understand very well what war means. That’s why peace is crucial – for the region and for development. There were conflicts in the South Caucasus region and Georgia was always playing a positive role in terms of supporting the peace around us. Our choice is to be pragmatic and this approach works.
We have had to face four different wars since the 1990s. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, there was the Civil War in the beginning of 1990s, [then there were] two wars in two regions of Georgia, [followed by] the Russian-Georgian war in 2008. We learned a lot from this history after the restoration of our independence and we understand that peace is the most important thing for ensuring the country’s development.
In Western media, there’s a tendency to cast things in black-and-white terms: pro-Russia or pro-Ukraine. Are you saying that there’s actually an advantage for Georgia to take a more nuanced position to continue talking with Moscow? Is there an opportunity to leverage that to deliver better outcomes for Ukraine but also, crucially, for Georgia?
In general, we want to have relations with everybody. With regard to Russia, we have had no diplomatic relations after the occupation of our two historic regions. [That is] a special case. We have our challenges with the EU. We had more challenges with the US under the previous administration but now the situation has changed. There are no tensions after the inauguration of the new US president. But we have special challenges with the EU that have no solid ground. We understand the reasons behind [our challenges with the EU] but we are committed to our goal of becoming a member.
Is that still the ambition then, to become a part of the EU, even though your relationship with Europe is fraught? How are you working to become part of the EU Commission?
We are patiently waiting for a change in attitudes and policies.
What would you say directly to the EU as a plea to join the commission?
The best [approach to] politics is to talk to each other. When one side chooses not to talk, it demonstrates weakness or negative goals behind the policies. We call on the European bureaucracy to start talking publicly and transparently about all of the issues. We are fully open for negotiations but they should be [conducted] in a transparent way so that the public can follow the discussions.
You must be frustrated by the fact that you still have this fraught relationship with Europe. You’re trying to get into the EU but it’s being blocked.
We are disappointed because if you look at all international rankings, Georgia is the best among all candidate countries. With regard to [our] level of corruption, we are doing better than all candidate countries and we are doing better than eight or nine EU member countries. It’s the same with the level of democracy, human rights, political pluralism and media pluralism. If you look, for example, at Georgia, Moldova and Ukraine, there is a huge difference [between them].
You mentioned the corruption rate in Georgia being considerably lower than some of your neighbouring countries but there has been scrutiny around your country’s recent elections. In particular, over voting and voting calculations. How do you respond to that? Have you been wholly transparent around the elections?
That is a good example showing that transparent talks are important, because we can talk about how [elections] have been held in Georgia. We introduced electronic counting, electronic registration and electronic procedures to the elections, so there is no reason to put the results under question.
Georgians went to the election precincts and voted through electronic machines; they got registered through machines. The commission members were just pressing the button and printing the checks reflecting the results. There was no technical possibility to manipulate anything in this election. We invited all the international observer organisations, including the CEC, the European Parliament, the peace delegation and all others. Nobody was able to provide any evidence – not systemic, not even essential – of manipulation. So that’s why we are saying [that we want] an open conversation about how the elections have been held in Georgia.
Read more from World Governments Summit
• Amid heightened geopolitical tensions, the World Governments Summit is a masterclass in soft power
• Neutrality is not passive: Dr Anwar Gargash explains the UAE’s diplomatic stance
President Trump’s acquisitive gaze has drifted from Greenland, at least for now. Denmark’s pipe-smoking foreign minister, Lars Løkke Rasmussen, seems to have Jedi mind-tricked the Americans into believing that their military efforts would be better rewarded elsewhere – Cuba perhaps. It is, however, seemingly only a matter of time before Greenland breaks free of rule from Copenhagen. Losing 98 per cent of its territory will be a blow for the Danes but I have an idea that might offer a little compensation.
On a recent visit to the Shetland Islands, I learned of a historical contract that, in theory at least, grants Denmark the right to buy the entire territory for just a few million dollars.
I went to Shetland to experience Up Helly Aa, one of several “fire festivals” that are held there in the winter months, with history that can be traced back to the mid-19th century. The young men who returned from the Napoleonic Wars had an excess of energy, pyromaniac tendencies and perhaps a touch of PTSD. To alleviate winter boredom, they began to set fire to barrels of tar and roll them around town.
The authorities eventually clamped down on the flaming barrel fun but realised that they would have to offer an alternative for the menfolk to let off steam – and thus the formalised fire festivals began.
Up Helly Aa is the original and the largest. It takes place on the last Tuesday of January in the capital, Lerwick. As darkness falls, more than 800 men in 40-plus teams, dressed in various wild and hilarious costumes, gather together in front of the town hall and light flaming torches. But that’s not all that they light. After parading through the town, their torches raining sparks down upon the thousands of spectators who line the streets, the men then set fire to a full-size replica Viking ship that they have spent many weeks lovingly constructing.
Up Helly Aa celebrates Viking culture because Shetland was once ruled by Scandinavian kings. It started with Norwegian Vikings but by the time that ownership of Shetland was transferred to King James III of Scotland in 1469, it was ruled by King Christian I of Denmark. He wanted his daughter, Margaret, to marry James but didn’t have enough cash to cover the dowry, so instead mortgaged Shetland for 8,000 Rhenish florins to the Scottish king, with a promise that he would buy it back once he raised the cash. Needless to say, the Danish king was never able to raise the money to recoup the islands but some have claimed that the dowry contract still stands. Admittedly, these claims have mainly been tongue-in-cheek and from Norwegians – but I don’t see why Denmark shouldn’t have at least as strong a claim. By my calculations, those 8,000 florins are roughly equivalent to €5m. A drop in the ocean compared with the money that they would save if Greenland goes solo.
What makes the deal all the more enticing is that the Danes and the Shetlanders have much in common – and not only a refreshing disregard for health and safety. High levels of social trust, for instance. When I asked for the key to the guest cottage that I was staying in, the lovely owner, Mary, looked at me as if to say, “Why would you need to lock the door?” Despite the lurid plotlines of Shetland, a successful BBC crime-drama series, there is very little crime on the islands. And Old Norse suffuses the local dialect and place names, so I am sure that the locals could adjust to Danish (certainly with greater ease than me).
Shetlanders are a direct, unpretentious, pragmatic bunch. They are used to terrible weather; they have oil like the Danes but also a space port, currently being built on Unst with a view to launching satellites in the next year or so.
Above all, they are proud of their Viking heritage: they feel a genuine connection to Scandinavia. There is certainly no love for the governments either in London or Edinburgh. While I was there, I conducted a little survey on behalf of Copenhagen, asking Shetlanders by whom they would prefer to be ruled. Every single one told me that they would prefer to be part of Scandinavia than either Britain or an independent Scotland. Copenhagen, it’s over to you.
Michael Booth is Monocle’s Copenhagen correspondent.
For more from Booth, read his missive on how if Trump’s threats have made anything clear, it’s that Danes don’t care about Greenland
For Kosovo’s president, Vjosa Osmani, global gatherings such as the World Governments Summit (WGS) serve a very specific purpose. More than 15 years after declaring independence, Kosovo remains recognised by only about half of the world’s states and is excluded from the UN and the EU. Relations with Serbia continue to cast a long shadow, with recent flare-ups prompting Nato intervention and renewed concern over stability in the western Balkans.
Speaking to Monocle in Dubai, Osmani positioned Kosovo as a small state with outsized geopolitical clarity. She described the country as one of Washington’s closest allies, fully aligned with the EU’s foreign and security policy – including sanctions on Russia – and keen to broaden its economic and defence partnerships beyond Europe. Her argument is rooted in experience: Kosovo, she says, knows what the absence of democracy looks like and does not take Western values for granted. Yet her optimism sits alongside ongoing frustrations in Brussels over Pristina’s handling of local governance and dialogue with Belgrade. The president pressed Kosovo’s case on the world stage, even as the country’s path to full international integration remains unfinished.
Osmani spoke with Monocle’s Gulf correspondent, Inzamam Rashid, and head of radio, Tom Edwards. Listen to the conversation on The Daily. The following transcript has been edited for clarity and length.
Can you tell us about the role of dialogue here in UAE, and at the WGS in particular, in Kosovo’s diplomatic relations?
Dialogue is critical for nations big or small. But it’s especially critical for countries such as Kosovo because we don’t necessarily get the opportunity to meet everyone at the same time in the same place. Most of our diplomatic engagement is within the European continent. It would take so much time for us to visit every single country [and have bilateral conversations] in every continent. But when you get to forums such as [the WGS], everyone is here. There is enormous opportunity – not just diplomatically but there’s economic opportunity with countries that we’ve never spoken to before. It’s a place where, within an hour, you can meet four presidents.
For us, it has already been fruitful. The UAE has been supportive of Kosovo since 1999, when we underwent genocidal war. [They] supported us to rebuild our country from the ashes and now they support us in health and other sectors. We’re grateful to have been included in this summit [because] it’s an enormous opportunity to strengthen existing relations but also create fresh alliances with new friends around the world.
What kind of conversations are you having with your counterparts, especially when US-Kosovan conversations are reigniting after what has been a fraught relationship?
The relationship that we have with the US has always been existential. The US led the world to come to our rescue – to give us an opportunity to live in freedom, independence and to enjoy the democracy that we have today. Kosovo has turned into one of the biggest success stories of US foreign policy in modern history. [We had support from] not only the US but Nato in general, including the UK and many other members of the EU.
We are working strongly with the Trump administration to see how we can expand this relationship beyond diplomacy and the usual political ideas and engagements that we’ve had in the past. We have enormous support from the US in the area of defence. As you know, we are in a very fragile region in terms of security. So it’s very important that we have the necessary defence capabilities.
What kind of conversations are you having with the US?
We get a lot of support when it comes to defence weapons and we get training in the US to make sure that our army develops in line with Nato standards. Training is crucial but, at the same time, defence weapons are crucial. We work to make sure that the soldier behind the weapon is well-motivated and supported so that there’s not just recruitment but also retainment within our army.
We’re working with the US to expand our economic relationship. Kosovo might be seen as small but because of the free-trade agreements, we have free access to hundreds of millions of Europeans. Today, when you invest in Kosovo, you’re also investing in hundreds of millions of Europeans. Our alignment continues to sit with the Euro. We’re also 100 per cent aligned with the EU’s foreign and security policy, whether in sanctions against Russia or other issues, because we believe that what you stand for is what truly matters, especially in difficult moments.
Do we advocate enough in Europe for a strong foundation based on shared values? Does Kosovo have a stronger advocacy for that because of its relatively recent, fraught history?
The reason that we are a strong voice for [Europe] is because we never take those values for granted. We know what it means to be a country that lives in the opposite of democracy. We’ve seen the opposite of peace. It’s destruction, it’s suffering – it’s horrible. Though all the values and democracy that the EU represents today are not perfect, it’s the best system that we know, it’s the best system that works and it’s a system that saves lives. We still believe that focusing on democracy, rule of law and human rights is the right way to go.
Further insights from the World Governments Summit:
● Amid heightened geopolitical tensions, the World Governments Summit is a masterclass in soft power
● Neutrality is not passive: Dr Anwar Gargash explains the UAE’s diplomatic stance
When the men’s singles figure-skating competition begins this week at the Milano Ice Skating Arena, the competitors will take to the rink alone. But perhaps none more so than Donovan Carrillo, the only Latin American figure skater competing in this year’s Olympic Games. He is also the only Mexican skater to land a quadruple jump in competition.
At 26 years old, this is Carrillo’s second Olympics. In the 2022 Beijing Games, he became the first Mexican figure skater to qualify for the Olympics in three decades, placing 22nd in the men’s single skating programme. Carrillo’s journey to becoming an Olympic athlete has not been without challenges. With few Latin American skating icons to look up to, Carrillo said he found inspiration in Mexico’s divers and gymnasts. When his home rink in Guadalajara closed, he transferred to a small rink in a shopping mall in León, Mexico, before moving to Toronto after the Beijing Games for better access to training centres. “Hopefully, in the future, we’ll have access to more ice rinks that will allow us to grow and improve and be more competitive every year,” he told Monocle. “I feel very honoured to now be on the screen, trying to inspire my country.”
Carrillo spoke to Monocle’s deputy head of radio, Tom Webb. The transcript of the following interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Donovan, you’re the only Latin American figure skater in the men’s single skating event. Why is that?
It’s a big challenge to practice winter sports [in Latin America], figure skating in particular, because of the conditions you need to practise the sport. We have really good skaters and I feel the potential is there. Hopefully, in the future, we’ll have access to more ice rinks that will allow us to grow and improve and be more competitive every year.
Who were your inspirations if there weren’t any from your region?
I [looked to] different sports, such as diving and gymnastics, because I grew up practising both sports. I remember watching [the Olympics on] TV and seeing Germán Sánchez, Alejandra Orozco, Iván García and Rommel Pacheco. There are very famous divers from Mexico and I was inspired. I feel honoured to now be on the screen, trying to inspire [the people of] my country to accomplish their personal goals.
You were eventually drawn toward figure skating. What was it about figure skating that you fell in love with?
I picked figure skating because it was more me. While diving and gymnastics has the complexity of all the jumps, figure skating has the artistry, the performance, the musicality and the choreography, and that is something that allows me to express myself. It was the perfect match.
What is the relationship between art, culture and sport for you?
Art gives me a little extra. When you just focus on the technique, it’s a little more stressful. Art, in my case, is more about the feeling, the joy and the emotions. Sometimes you feel sad and you have to go to the rink and try to use that emotion and express it.
How does Mexican culture enter your performance?
I always try to show my pride of being Mexican with different things, such as music or costume. In the past, I have also skated to Latino and Mexican artists. I’m always proud to represent my country through culture and music.
The opening ceremony must have been an amazing moment. How did it feel?
My heart was beating so fast but I was just so excited to be the flag bearer this time. I moved the flag super fast, I was so hyped. It was something magical and something that only the Olympics could bring. Many people have asked me, ‘How did you feel?’ It’s just an Olympic emotion that is hard to describe. You have to experience it yourself to know what I’m talking about. But it’s one of those moments that will stay in my heart and my memories forever.
More from the Olympics
- ‘My office manager has dressed up as a Roman centurion.’ Marco Balich on organising the perfect Milano Cortina Olympic opening ceremony
- A studio visit with Andrea Fontanari, the Italian painter behind the Milano Cortina 2026 Paralympics poster
- The Monocle guide to Milan
The hotel minibar is dead. And even if it is not lost forever, that little fridge has not been metaphorically plugged in for some time and the nuts could do with a rearrange. I say this as someone who travels often, stays in good hotels and possesses only a modest amount of willpower when it comes to snacks. I should, in theory, be the minibar’s core demographic. And yet, like the long-neglected hotel trouser press, the minibar has become something that I acknowledge only in passing, often before swiftly ignoring. It shouldn’t be this way.
There was a time when the minibar mattered. Not because it was cheap or abundant but because it felt intentional. It was an extension of warmth and hospitality. A late-night glass of something civilised, a chocolate chosen with care, a small indulgence that said, “We thought about you, even after room service closed.” There are some exceptions, of course, (think Rosewood or Château Voltaire), which boast a bountiful, mini-mall of offerings. But there’s no middle ground. The solid and competent type has evaporated – it’s now all or nothing.
It became particularly obvious on recent trips to Doha, Riyadh and back home in the UAE. In city hotels across the Gulf, the minibar now feels less of a temptation and more like a museum display, a relic from a time when convenience had limits and when a lukewarm can of cola at AED35 (€8) was a necessary indulgence rather than a mild insult.
The problem isn’t just price, though that certainly doesn’t help; rather, it’s relevance. In the UAE especially, the minibar is no longer competing with the bar downstairs or the shop across the road. It’s competing with your phone. And your phone, frankly, wins every time. With a few taps, I can have a cold soft drink, a bag of pistachios, a decent hot meal and, if the night has taken a turn, electrolyte sachets delivered to my hotel room in 15 minutes. Nowadays, the UAE is built for such convenience. Not only is it faster than rummaging through the minibar price list but it’s also cheaper, fresher and gives you far more choice than the familiar trio of cashews, peanuts and something masquerading as premium.
But this raises an uncomfortable question for hotels: should this be allowed? When a guest has to rely on a delivery rider to meet basic needs, does it not signal a failure of hospitality? By outsourcing feeding, hydrating and comforting guests to apps, hotels aren’t just losing revenue – they’re also surrendering a chance to connect. Convenience might be king but hospitality is supposed to be about care.
In this context, the minibar’s traditional selling point – immediacy – collapses entirely. Why would I pay a small fortune for a miniature bottle of something that I didn’t ask for, when the city outside my window can deliver almost anything I want at speed?
Around the world, the story isn’t much different. In London, New York, Singapore or Tokyo, the minibar has been quietly sidelined by 24-hour convenience shops, room-service apps and hotels that now stock communal pantries instead. Some have removed minibars entirely, citing sustainability concerns or guest preferences. Others keep them but padlock the fridge with such moral force that you half-expect whatever is inside to come with a warning label.
That said, I’m not immune to the small, borderline illicit pleasures of a hotel stay. I will still, without shame, pocket a particularly good soap or conditioner. I have also developed a wandering eye for a well-made laundry bag, ostensibly for delicates but in reality, it could be repurposed as an excellent shoe bag for the flight home. These things feel personal, considered and generous. And they don’t ask you to do mental arithmetic before enjoying them.
This is where hotels can raise the minibar. Not by competing on convenience – it will lose – but by vying for meaning. A minibar that tells you something about where you are: local snacks, fresh fruit, a drink from a nearby producer, replenished properly and priced with some humility. Fewer items, chosen better. The minibar doesn’t need to be bigger or faster. It just needs to feel like a gift again.
Inzamam Rashid is Monocle’s Gulf correspondent. Discover Dubai beyond the hotel minibar with our hot-off-the-press City Guide.
Following 12 months of buffeting and befuddlement, some commentators are now predicting a coming century of humiliation for Europe. In the interests of avoiding such a humbling, there are several things that the vieux continent can do to get itself back in fighting form. The most obvious, and often cited, is to improve its defences. In this regard, Europe has come a long way: last year, defence spending among EU member states rose to €381bn, up nearly 63 per cent since 2020; if you include the UK among them, that figure is about €450bn. This is much more than at-war Russia (about €250bn) and even above generous estimates of what China spent over the same period (approximately €400bn).
But still the prevailing mood among European leaders at a crisis meeting following Trump’s threats to annex Greenland was somewhere between jilted, battered and bruised. This is partly because they know that it will take time for their investment in defence to translate into proper hard power. But also because they are so unused to wielding their geopolitical influence in a robust manner. The continent has more leverage with the US, China and Russia than it seems to realise – leverage that will only increase with growing military might. Let’s start with trade, an issue that has dominated the past 12 months due to Donald Trump’s obsession with the deficit between the amount his country imports from and exports to Europe. But the EU’s trade imbalance with the US is not as great as Trump makes it out to be. If again one includes the UK, Europe imports nearly €500bn worth of goods from the US every year, making trade between the two almost equal. Were Brussels and London able to co-ordinate effectively enough to make it clear that they would be willing to take their custom elsewhere, US business might be worried enough to make it a problem for the White House.
While European countries have woken up to the need to wield more military influence in a volatile world, they still appear sheepish about flexing their economic muscle. Such blinkeredness is reflected in the bloc’s inability to see through structural weaknesses in order to rekindle its economic dynamism. As European living standards and GDP per capita continue to decline, a new co-ordinated industrial policy is needed in order to, for example, increase labour market flexibility across the continent. This might also tempt some of the international entrepreneurial talent that would have looked to the US as the natural place to start a business to think about Europe instead.
The continent should also take better advantage of its trustworthiness to form deeper bonds with those countries still committed to a rules-based order. In a world of sharks, in which a deal is worth no more than the paper it is written on, a commitment to process need not be a disadvantage. We recently saw with the signing of the massive EU-India trade deal that rising powers, who have staked their futures on better integration into the global economic system, are looking for dependable partners. China has recognised this and is busy selling itself as a squeaky-clean follower of trade rules but its opaque political and economic structure means that it can never be fully trusted when it comes to doing business. Obvious candidates for deeper ties are Canada, South Korea, Brazil, Japan and Australia. If you add India to the mix, you have a formidable bloc of the world’s largest economies and more than half of its population.
Then there’s the area in which Europe already does lead the world: its attractiveness as a place to visit and live. Taken as a whole, it is the continent with the best infrastructure, most stable politics and highest quality of life. Last year more than 40 million Americans visited Europe, more than 10 per cent of the US population, while annual international visitors constituted more than half of all global tourism. If the continent were to merely match the foreboding rhetoric and visa policies of the US or China by subjecting citizens of those countries to tit-for-tat restrictions and delays, it would immediately have more sway over their governments.
Finally, in an age of hubristic strongmen, Europe’s other superpower is that it can recognise and constructively debate its own faults. Any institution incapable of reforming itself is doomed to failure. Whatever JD Vance says, Europe is a bastion of free movement, free trade and free speech – eight of the top-10 countries in the Cato Institute’s Human Freedom Index of 2025 are in Europe (the US is 15th). This gives it authority with which to wage any war of words but also a point of pride that can rouse its restive citizenry. And herein, perhaps, lies the engine for Europe’s renewal. Polling produced last week by YouGov confirms that the continent’s population is overwhelmingly anti-Trump – with a majority of respondents taking an anti-American view and favouring increased European autonomy over the Transatlantic Alliance. Though many Europeans are also pretty disillusioned with their own leadership, a robust defence of their way of life and greater assertiveness on the world stage could be just the tonic for the ailing old continent.
Alexis Self is Monocle’s foreign editor. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.
Further reading?
– On the defensive: Europe must co-ordinate its defence procurement to avoid past mistakes
– Europe’s defence industry is stepping up to offer smart new solutions. Here are a few of the innovations currently on our radar.
– Irish neutrality is a weak spot for Europe that Putin could use to his advantage
We’ve all felt it: the pressure to go somewhere despite being tired. The fear of missing out or “fomo” is as big a part of modern life and can lead to burnout or larger consequences, such as rash decisions being made without fully examining the options. The phrase can be attributed to Patrick J McGinniss, who coined it while at Harvard Business School in 2004. At the time, McGinniss used the uncertainty of the years after September 11 to take full advantage of Harvard’s social, academic and career-building offerings but realised that attending everything wasn’t a fulfilling pastime.
McGinniss, now a venture capitalist, podcaster and author, went on to write a book on fomo, which presents a framework for how to use the phenomenon to make better decisions. He has spent years studying how this feeling – and its sister affliction, fear of a better option or “fobo” – show up in business and government dealings, as well as how people can use the impulses to their advantage.
Monocle’s Andrew Tuck and Tom Edwards spoke to McGinniss at the World Governments Summit in Dubai. This transcript has been edited for clarity and length.
You invented the phrase ‘fear of missing out’ or ‘fomo’. Tell us a little bit about how it originated and why it has gained global traction.
I invented the phrase when I was a student at Harvard Business School. I arrived there shortly after September 11 and having experienced that in New York at the time, I remember thinking, ‘I’ve got to live every day like it’s my last.’ Harvard Business School is an incredibly choice-rich environment, so I went to every class, every job interview, every party – and at some point, I realised that all of that opportunity was making me anxious and I had a fear of missing out. I shortened [the phrase] to fomo, then wrote an article in the school newspaper in 2004 and moved on with my life. Years later a journalist traced the phrase back to me and the rest is history.
In recent years you’ve elevated the phrase to talk about how it impacts government and business decisions. Sum that up for us.
Over the last decade and a half, I’ve spent a lot of time studying fomo and talking to big decision makers in business, finance, marketing and government. What I have seen is that this is deeply embedded in our psychology. As a result, when people feel fomo, even though they may not recognise it, they see an urgent opportunity in a time of uncertainty and they feel like they have got to move quickly.
The easiest way [to do that] is to copy somebody or do something that is not very well thought out. As a result, people put policies in place that don’t work. You end up having a situation that is sub-optimal that oftentimes wastes money and time.
What you’re saying is that fomo can do serious, long-term structural damage on a governmental or international level. But if you don’t move at a reasonable speed, you risk falling behind. How do you know which gear to be in?
What tends to happen when we make decisions based on fear is that we end up with sub-optimal outcomes. The challenge that we have to face is: how do we get out of the fear place and into the facts place? [My first piece of advice is:] step back and think about your priorities. Gather data from other people. It’s not fomo to observe other places or to bring in experts. [Engaging in] evidence-based decision making, even in times of uncertainty, [can produce good] ideas.
When you formulate a policy, ask: would I have formulated this policy if country X had not done that thing? If you are simply looking at other countries as the basis [for our decisions], then we’re in a bad place. I always tell policymakers that a lot of decisions are reversible. So feel free to move faster on the things that you can actually change in the future. When it comes to something that you cannot [change], put on the brakes, gather more data and come up with a hypothesis.
If you communicate the trade-offs to the general public, you normalise uncertainty. [When] you come up with policy objectives to communicate, you will bring people along with you. You may be wrong but you will have [developed those objectives] in a way that is transparent and convinces people that you have put some thought into it.
It seems like fomo could be useful to make decisions about where to eat for dinner but could be dangerous for, say, a venture capitalist who needs to handle millions of dollars quickly. How might people incorporate this framework to making decisions in their own lives?
I think about high-stakes, low-stakes and no-stakes decisions. No-stakes decisions are [ones] such as, where am I going to go to dinner? I simply outsource [those decisions] to the person who loves choosing or to ChatGPT. For low-stakes decisions, which are things that I will probably not remember [in detail] having decided in a couple of months, I go to third parties and experts; people who [who have niche expertise], such as the guy who wants to help you choose your television.
I like to think of decisions like investments [and consider three crucial questions]: how am I allocating my time, money and attention? What is the due diligence I must do to build a case? And [can] I surround myself with a diverse set of people to question me? We all know that diverse teams make better decisions.The goal is to surround yourself with people who won’t just agree with you.
That has always been my goal, I have a tonne of fomo every day. My work is to manage my own fomo and all of yours.
In addition to fomo, you’ve developed a sister phrase: ‘fobo’. Tell us more about that.
Fobo is something that listeners and readers of Monocle will probably feel deeply. It [stands for] ‘fear of a better option’. While fomo is something that lots of people have, it can be very frivolous. It’s something that people can manage. Fobo is something that tends to increase when you have more resources and options. People who are successful tend to deal with fobo.
When you have fobo, you have acceptable options in front of you but you’re looking for the perfect, riskless decision and you keep on looking. We live in a time when people have more options than ever before. I call this an affliction of abundance. People have worked very hard for the things that they have but they cannot enjoy them when they have fobo. Nobody ever says, ‘What a great [indecisive] leader.’ It is our challenge in the modern age to be decisive, to know what we want and then to choose those things. Fobo pulls us away from that. [It’s important to] have an opinion and to express it. And you must listen to the other side. If you do that, not only will you learn something and conquer your fomo and fobo but you’ll probably make a better world and solve some problems.
Most people remember their first night at Ronnie Scott’s – or, at the very least, how it began. The jazz bar on London’s Frith Street has become something of a Soho institution in the years since it opened in 1959. I first went as a student, when Ronnie’s became a welcome terminus after a late night spent roaming around town. It is one of a small number of London venues (that you’d actually like to set foot in) that’s open until 03:00.
Earlier this week, I made my way to Frith Street at a more reasonable hour for the relaunch of Upstairs at Ronnie’s. The renovations of the venue’s second space – which have taken the best part of two years – are extensive. With a new ceiling (complete with geometric fabric panelling) the room is more spacious and there are now seats for 140 guests, a slick new bar and improved acoustics. Rather than the red velvet synonymous with downstairs, Upstairs at Ronnie’s is bedecked in yellows and oranges. The colours create a soft golden light and give visitors the impression of being cocooned somewhere far away from the hectic streets of central London. As the guests found their seats – with hot pink welcome cocktails in hand – I watched them marvel at the room’s makeover. Like the venue itself, the new menu from executive chef Steven Connolly is classic and unfussy.
Onstage, the exuberant singer Vula Malinga seemed to pull off a magic trick – transporting the audience from 18.30 on a Wednesday evening to late on Saturday night (she might have had some help from a mid-show round of tequila shots for the band). The party atmosphere continued when R&B singer Nao arrived and turned her soulful voice to a high-octane cover of Chaka Khan’s “Ain’t Nobody”.
As I watched, I was reminded of something Ronnie Scott’s managing director, Fred Nash, had said to me about Ronnie’s being both nostalgic and “a place of exploration and discovery”. He describes the venue as a broad church and argues that Ronnie’s thrives because it showcases the full spectrum of jazz and jazz-adjacent music. And, despite its storied history, Ronnie’s has evolved with the times. The relaunch of Upstair’s is just the latest example of this. Ronnie Scott’s is a treasured institution because it manages to be a home for more than the jazz cognoscenti – its cosy lamplit tables are equally inviting for purists and the wandering students who happen to stumble towards them.
Need more jazzy reads to riff off?
– Interview: Mathieu Jaton on the secret sauce behind the Montreux Jazz Festival
– The Danish churches putting faith in yoga, jazz and modern design
For countries with cold climates, a spot on the Winter Olympics podium is as natural as snowfall. But at Milano Cortina 2026, athletes from nations with temperatures far less conducive to skating, skiing or snowboarding will be going up against the world’s elite.
1.
Singapore’s ski sensation
Faiz Basha
Come February, 23-year-old skier Faiz Basha will proudly bear Singapore’s flag at Milano Cortina’s opening ceremony – the first time that a skier from the tropical city state will compete in the Winter Games. “Singapore is new to sports – we’re oriented towards academia,” says Basha. “But ever since Joseph Schooling beat Michael Phelps at Rio 2016 to win our first Olympic gold medal, the culture has been changing.”
Basha took up skiing after moving to Switzerland at the age of three. During his mandatory military service at the age of 18, he started training on the running track at Singapore’s national stadium to stay ski-fit.
Since then, he has become the top-ranked Southeast Asian athlete in the men’s slalom. “I hope that the next generation of athletes is better than me,” he says. “I hope I can inspire younger athletes or youths in any endeavour and show that anything is possible.”
2.
Haiti’s harbinger of hope
Stevenson Savart
Adopted by a French couple when he was three, Haiti-born Stevenson Savart has been on skis for as long as he can remember. “I pushed to join the local ski club before I’d reached the age requirement,” Savart tells Monocle from his training camp in Pontarlier. In 2021 the skier decided to represent his birthplace and he felt vindicated after Richardson Viano became the first Haitian to compete in a Winter Games at Beijing 2022. “I was at a time in my life when I wasn’t sure of the direction that I wanted to take and he motivated me to keep going and represent my country,” says Savart.
In 2023 he became the first Haitian to participate in the cross-country competition of the World Cup. Three years later, he will be competing in his first Olympics at Milano Cortina. His dream is a place on the podium – but even taking part is an achievement at a tough time for Haiti. “I want to show that we can compete at the highest level.”
3.
Brazil’s bobsleigh veteran
Edson Bindilatti
It takes persistence to compete in multiple Olympics. It takes even more in an event for which the country of your birth seems ill-suited. Yet Cool Runnings-inspired bobsledder Edson Bindilatti is set for his sixth Winter Games in Milano Cortina. He was part of Brazil’s first Olympic bobsleigh campaign, at Salt Lake City in 2002: the team finished 27th in the four-man bob.
The years since have yielded some improvement: in Beijing in 2022, Brazil’s four-man team finished 20th, ahead of sleds from more obviously cold-weather sporting countries including Austria, Canada and Switzerland. (Brazil’s two-man bob, however, was only slightly faster than Jamaica’s.) Bindilatti has come out of retirement in a bid to qualify for Milano Cortina – and to mentor Brazil’s next generation of bobsleigh crews. By mid-January, the 46-year-old should know whether his efforts to make it to the 2026 Games have been successful.
If you tune in to Monocle Radio, follow our weekday newsletters or were on the rooftop of Iliāna at Jumeirah Marsa Al Arab on Wednesday, you will know that Monocle was very much in the UAE this week. While much of the action was at the World Governments Summit (WGS) just along the beach, there were other colleagues zipping back and forth to Abu Dhabi (who can pass up an invite to a Ricky Martin concert with CNN’s Becky Anderson as your front row seatmate?), scoping out new retail ventures and simply getting a read on the country at this most enjoyable time of year – 26C by day and cool enough to dine outdoors into the wee hours.
My first UAE touchdown was in early 1994. I was being evacuated from Afghanistan by the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) via Islamabad and Dubai. I had been shot in Kabul 48 hours earlier, was high as a kite on morphine and remembered a low-rise city that looked like it might have a story or two worth telling. Six months later, I returned with photographer Zed Nelson and spent a week at the Le Méridien near the airport hunting for stories to file to the various titles that had assigned us. If you can track down copies of Arena magazine from late 1994 or early 1995, you’ll likely land on some of the fine reportage we did from various corners of the world. I was thinking about our time spent in seedy Dubai clubs and overlit Lebanese restaurants when I touched down last Saturday.
As I passed the towers around the Dubai International Financial Centre, I was also reminded of a story we’d done in Singapore at about the same time. We’d found a bunch of young and wealthy locals who were game to talk about the transformation of their city and had arranged for them to stand in front of a forest of girders and cranes that were erecting the soon-to-debut Suntec City. I was also reminded of the sharp Emiratis who told me that same autumn that they wanted to be the Singapore of the Middle East but with more natural resources and a better airline. Three decades ago, with Dubai all low-rise buildings, dusty and scrubby, it seemed like wishful thinking at best. We now have a pretty good idea how that thinking has evolved and it’s an impressive, crazy and ambitious tale.
Just as Singapore’s Shangri-La Dialogues helped define it as a key diplomatic broker in the region, this week’s WGS and various side summits in Abu Dhabi have vaulted the UAE into the spotlight as a region that generates datelines for stories ranging from aviation to big infrastructure, and peace brokering to top-chef talent attraction. Western diplomats like to take the odd sideswipe at the UAE, remind you that all is not what it seems and trot out a host of reasons why Europe, despite all its challenges, is still on the right track. Thankfully there were enough European business leaders at the WGS who were only too happy to point out that working 40 hours a week and pushing for even fewer hours isn’t really a strategy when the continent plays host to the highest social costs on the planet and growth has largely stalled. Meanwhile, the number of young Europeans arriving in Dubai and Abu Dhabi to run restaurants, train as concierges, man architecture firms and open galleries is booming.
“The French are leading the way but others are catching up fast,” explained one luxury industry exec. “There are some 60,000 French in the UAE, it’s their new Hong Kong.” And why are they choosing the UAE? “Simple. These are people who want to work, gain experience, build brands, go about safely and be part of something that is growing and exciting.” And perhaps, unlike many corners of Europe, they’re attracted to a place that is open all hours, puts service at the core of its economy and is probusiness.
Off the back of Greenland shenanigans, civil unrest in Minnesota, an English-language news cycle that can’t find the off-ramp from Epstein and too much shouty commentary, the polite and thoughtful conversations found in the majlis suddenly makes much Western political and business conduct feel passé and rudderless.
Enjoying life in ‘The Faster Lane’? Click here to browse all of Tyler’s past columns.
Keen to read more from Monocle’s week in the UAE?
– Neutrality is not passive: Dr Anwar Gargash explains the UAE’s diplomatic stance
– Amid heightened geopolitical tensions, the World Governments Summit is a masterclass in soft power
