Joe: Alright Lewis, I'm going to say a phrase, and you give me your instant, gut reaction. Ready? "The Future." Lewis: Ugh. Flying cars, robot butlers, and a bunch of promises from 1950 that never showed up. It's the biggest vaporware of all time. I'm still waiting for my jetpack. Joe: That is the perfect, and I mean perfect, place to start. That widespread feeling of disappointment is exactly why we need to talk about the book The Future Normal: How We Will Live, Work, and Thrive in the Next Decade by Rohit Bhargava and Henry Coutinho-Mason. They argue that we're all looking for the future in completely the wrong places. Lewis: Okay, you have my attention. Who are these guys? Professional dream-crushers or optimistic futurists? Joe: A bit of both, in the best way. Bhargava is the mind behind the "Non-Obvious Trends" series. For years, his whole thing has been ignoring the flashy, headline-grabbing predictions and instead focusing on the subtle, under-the-radar shifts that actually end up changing everything. Lewis: Ah, so he's not looking for the next hoverboard. He's looking for the thing that makes the hoverboard irrelevant. Joe: Exactly. And this book, which has picked up some notable awards for its sociological insights, is the culmination of that thinking. It’s less about predicting technology and more about predicting what parts of our humanity will become the new normal. Lewis: Social insights, not just tech specs. I like that. It feels more grounded. So, where do we even begin to untangle what's real from what's just, you know, a cool concept car?

Joe: Well, the authors start by making a brilliant distinction. They're not interested in "futurism" in the classic sense. They call their approach "near futurism." It’s about understanding what will become normal in the next few years by looking at what’s happening right now. Lewis: Okay, but how do you separate a real, lasting change from just a fad? We just lived through the ultimate test case for this, didn't we? The pandemic. Joe: We absolutely did. And it's a perfect example from the book. Think back to 2020. What were the things everyone was doing? Lewis: Oh man, don't remind me. My Instagram feed was a graveyard of failed sourdough starters. Everyone was baking bread, doing Zoom happy hours, and we all learned that awkward elbow bump thing. It was the "new normal," right? Joe: That was the phrase on everyone's lips! But what happened the second we could go outside again? Lewis: We sprinted to the nearest bar, shook hands like we'd just signed a peace treaty, and collectively forgot how to make bread. My sourdough starter, may it rest in peace, became a fuzzy science experiment in the back of the fridge. Joe: And that's the core lesson. Those were temporary adaptations to a crisis, not a fundamental shift in human behavior. The book argues that a trend only becomes "normal" if it satisfies a deep, unchanging human need better than the old way. Zoom happy hours were a poor substitute for the real need: genuine, physical, social connection. The moment a better option returned, we dropped the substitute. Lewis: That makes so much sense. The underlying desire didn't change, just the temporary method. It’s like, we still wanted to connect, but a pixelated screen just wasn't cutting it. So what's another example of a "future" that failed because it misunderstood the real need? Joe: The book gives a classic one: the Concorde supersonic jet. For decades, it was the symbol of the future of air travel. London to New York in under three hours! It was a technological marvel. Lewis: I remember seeing pictures of it. It looked like a spaceship. Why aren't we all flying on them now? Joe: Because it solved the wrong problem, or rather, it solved one problem—speed—at the expense of everything else. It was incredibly expensive to fly, astronomically expensive to operate, and deafeningly loud. It was a niche luxury. Meanwhile, what was happening in regular old business class? Lewis: They were getting comfier seats? Joe: Way comfier. They introduced lie-flat beds. They added in-flight Wi-Fi. They improved the food. They realized the fundamental need for business travelers wasn't just raw speed; it was arriving at their destination rested, productive, and ready for a meeting. The "future normal" wasn't the sci-fi jet. It was a comfortable, flying office. Lewis: Wow. So the less sexy, more practical innovation won. The Concorde was a brilliant answer to a question most people weren't actually asking. It was a solution in search of a problem, while lie-flat beds were a problem in search of a solution. Joe: Precisely. The future that becomes normal is almost never the one that looks the most futuristic. It's the one that quietly, effectively, and affordably solves a real, enduring human want. It's about what we do, not just what we can do. Lewis: This is already changing how I think about innovation. We're so obsessed with the "what's next" that we forget to ask "what for?" It seems like the authors are arguing that the best way to predict the future is to get really, really good at understanding the present state of human desire. Joe: You've nailed it. And that leads directly to the next big idea in the book, which is how the very things we desire, the very definition of what we consider "better," are starting to shift in some really surprising ways.

Lewis: Okay, so if it's all about satisfying our needs, that makes me think about the stuff we buy. Our consumption habits are a huge part of what's "normal." Is the book saying our definition of a "good product" is changing? Joe: Dramatically. And in ways that are completely counter-intuitive. The authors have a chapter called "Unnaturally Better," which sounds like a contradiction, but it perfectly captures a huge shift. For generations, what was the gold standard for quality? Lewis: Natural. Organic. Authentic. Hand-crafted. Something that came from the earth. "Fake" was a dirty word. Joe: Exactly. But that's flipping on its head. Take diamonds. For centuries, a "real" diamond, mined from deep within the earth, was the ultimate status symbol. It represented rarity, permanence, and nature's power. Lewis: Right, a symbol of love that took a billion years to form. Very romantic. Joe: But what's the story behind many of those mined diamonds? Environmental devastation, conflict, unethical labor practices. The "natural" story has a dark side. Now, consider a company the book mentions called Skydiamond. Lewis: Skydiamond? Sounds like something out of a video game. Joe: It kind of is. They are literally making diamonds out of thin air. They pull carbon from the atmosphere, use wind and solar power to create immense pressure and heat, and grow a diamond that is chemically, physically, and optically identical to one from the earth. Lewis: Hold on. They're making diamonds from pollution, using green energy? Joe: Yes. So now you have a choice. A "natural" diamond with a potentially murky past, or a "man-made" diamond that actively cleans the atmosphere and is guaranteed conflict-free. For a growing number of people, which one is "better"? Which one tells a better story? Lewis: Wow, the Skydiamond, without a doubt. The story isn't "this came from the dirt," it's "this came from our ingenuity and our desire to fix the planet." That completely redefines luxury. The "fake" one has become the more ethical, and therefore more desirable, choice. Joe: The definition of status shifts from "what I can afford to extract" to "what I can afford to support." The unnatural product becomes the superior one. And we're seeing this everywhere. Lab-grown meat that avoids animal slaughter, synthetic fabrics that are more sustainable than cotton—the idea that "natural is always best" is being seriously challenged. Lewis: Is this connected to another trend I've been noticing? The idea of "Secondhand Status." It feels related. Twenty years ago, buying used clothes was seen as something you did because you couldn't afford new. Now, people brag about their finds on Depop or The RealReal. Joe: It's the exact same psychological shift. The book talks about this explicitly. Buying a pre-loved luxury bag or a vintage jacket isn't just about saving money anymore. It's a signal of savviness, of having a unique style, of participating in the circular economy. It's a rejection of disposable fast fashion. Lewis: So the status comes from the story and the intelligence of the purchase. "Look at this amazing, one-of-a-kind thing I found," is a much better story than, "I bought the same mass-produced shirt as everyone else at the mall." Joe: You got it. In both cases—the lab-grown diamond and the vintage jacket—the value is shifting from the material's origin to the story and ethics behind it. It's a move from passive consumption to conscious, calculated consumption. And that, the authors argue, is a massive part of the future normal. We're all becoming curators of our own lives, and we want every object to tell a story we're proud of.

Lewis: Okay, so putting this all together, it feels like the book's message is surprisingly simple, but profound. To see the future, we need to stop looking up at the sky for jetpacks and start looking inward at our own unchanging human needs. Joe: That's the heart of it. There's a fantastic quote from Jeff Bezos that the authors reference in the conclusion. He said everyone always asks him, "What's going to change in the next 10 years?" But he almost never gets the more important question: "What's not going to change in the next 10 years?" Lewis: And that's where the real opportunities are. Joe: That's where the future normal is built. Our fundamental desires for connection, for status, for purpose, for convenience, for a better story—those things are ancient. They're not going anywhere. The businesses, the technologies, and the ideas that will define the next decade are the ones that find new, more effective, more ethical, and more human ways to meet those timeless needs. Lewis: So, to see the future, we shouldn't be reading sci-fi novels. We should be looking at our own desires and then observing which innovations are actually serving them in a smarter way. It’s less about predicting the invention and more about predicting the adoption. Joe: Exactly. The future isn't about technology, ultimately. The book's final message is that it will be about human ingenuity and what we can accomplish when we work together to solve real problems for real people. It’s an incredibly optimistic and empowering way to look at what's ahead. Lewis: It really is. It makes the future feel less like something that happens to us and more like something we actively choose, every day, with our habits and our purchases. It puts the power back in our hands. Joe: So the question for all of us listening is: what's a "future" you see becoming "normal" in your own life? What's a small shift you've noticed in yourself or your friends that feels like it's here to stay? We'd genuinely love to hear your thoughts. Lewis: Yeah, let us know. What's your personal "future normal"? Joe: This is Aibrary, signing off.