Everything Can Be 'Semaglutide-ized': Efficiency Above All, Prediction Markets, the Spectacle Economy, and War

Author: kyla scanlon, Macro Analyst

Compiled by: Felix, PANews

Macro analyst Kyla Scanlon recently published a lengthy article, pointing out that the "optimization" narrative being peddled by today's society is essentially escapism. It turns the body, the self, and beliefs into tradable assets, creating a dependency on "quick fixes" while never addressing the systemic root causes. Details below.

I had to start trying an "elimination diet" because my gut is essentially eating itself, and this is apparently also destroying my thyroid, making it impossible to absorb any nutrients. To fix this, I had to stop eating wheat, dairy, corn, eggs, tomatoes, peanuts, coffee, soy, cocoa, sugar, and many other things (this isn't like a juice cleanse or anything fun; it's a necessary action to stop my body from attacking itself). I have to log what I eat and how I feel, and then assess what I can eat from that.

If there was a quick fix (like an injection), I would try it. I don't really know what's wrong with me, I just know I had many vials of blood drawn, and modern science tells me that some things inside my body are very wrong.

But the funny thing is, part of the problem is that I always wanted to take shortcuts. Last year, I was traveling for 40 weeks, and some days, I survived on granola bars and about 14 cups of coffee. I would also run frantically, work frantically, and sleep very little because I felt completely invincible. After all, I was an "efficiency machine."

For a while, I was. But then I wasn't. It turns out I wasn't really optimizing anything; I was just逃避 (escaping) what I really should have been doing, like sleeping. What I needed wasn't to push myself harder but to start figuring out what was making me sick. This is the exact opposite of what we've been taught.

"Semaglutide-ization" (Ozempicization)

Americans love optimization. So when something promises to let us optimize further, offering a near-instant quick fix, it's hard to resist. Our identity is almost built around being "efficient."

The desire for control is very strong right now, and this desire permeates every corner of the digital and physical worlds.

• I think this is actually a response to a kind of financial nihilism. People no longer believe the underlying economy will work for them, so they turn to speculation or other seemingly quick paths to stability.
• According to a Northwestern Mutual survey, 80% of Gen Z and 75% of Millennials feel behind, and this feeling drives them to speculate.
• The same goes for social media: if you struggle to form connections in real life, the online world offers a substitute form, but people are increasingly uneasy about the collective reliance on social media.

Subsequently, industries have sprung up to monetize this nihilism by offering the promised solutions. But the solutions never arrive because the nihilism and the relinquishing of spirit must persist for these products to survive. This aligns with the views in Ivan Illich's book "Medical Nemesis." Ivan pointed out that the medical system itself creates illness because it makes people dependent on professional intervention rather than focusing on maintaining health. This effect exists in all optimization tools; they create a dependency on the "fix" rather than solving the root cause. The "optimization economy" cannot bring a sense of control because "despair" itself is the condition for its market operation, and the pursuit of control through optimization is itself a form of losing control.

Our tools are also too focused on the individual. As Raymond Williams wrote in his 1975 book "Television: Technology and Cultural Form":

• The earlier period of public technology, represented by the railroad and urban lighting, is being replaced by a technology that has not yet found a satisfactory name: a technology that serves a lifestyle that is both mobile and home-centered: a form of mobile privatization.

Williams described the shift from infrastructure serving everyone to technology built around the mobile, private individual. The shift from railroads to peptides is the shift from "we build for everyone" to "you can buy it for yourself."

A truly effective example of a personal optimization tool is Ozempic (semaglutide, a weight loss/diabetes drug). Some people need it for medical reasons, while others openly admit to using it for aesthetics. To be clear, Ozempic is an excellent technology; it does solve real problems faced by individuals, but it doesn't address collective issues like the food system and healthcare accessibility.

This also marks a shift. We can truly control certain aspects *inside* the human body through time and resources. What we have is the optimization of everything in the "Ozempic" style, or "Ozempicization." We now have a suite of peptides and other various forms of "magic injections" that can save you the effort, discomfort, and complexity. Everything can be optimized. Everything can be controlled.

Controlling the Body

The body has always been a site of control because it is a system that still reacts to external inputs. And nowadays, various systems are hostile. The economy and institutions often ignore individual plights, but the body does not.

It's no surprise that Bryan Johnson's multi-million dollar "forever young" experiment garners widespread attention. Bryan Johnson has what everyone craves – complete control over outcomes. The appeal of "immortality" lies in this sense of control: control over your nutrition, supplements, lifespan. And for the audience, that's its appeal: in an era where everything feels out of control, the body becomes an object that can be mastered.

This pattern is common. Personally, in college, when my father was seriously ill, I developed a severe eating disorder and tried to regain control over everything. When all external factors become unmanageable, control over the body becomes the last line of defense (regardless of gender). Throughout humanity, many people ultimately resort to body control. And this method of control is gradually becoming a form of content consumption.

Clavicular is a recently rising streamer, famous for "bone smashing" and "looksmaxxing," who exists in his own WWE-like universe that he's pieced together. His universe has its own language; it's a battle for the "number one alpha male" (determined by online leaderboards). He is obsessed with his appearance and obsessed with control.

"Looksmaxxing" itself simulates a value (status, appeal) that these people might not be able to attain economically. It's a form of control over the body to compensate for their lack of economic control. This phenomenon also appears in wellness culture, peptide drugs, plastic surgery, and various enhancements. It serves the individual's desire to become healthier or stronger, but it also serves an economic purpose; it's another means of control.

The hot word in Silicon Valley right now is "agency," which is really just a euphemism for the desire for control. Optimization is the process, control is the goal, and "agency" is the branding. In the startup world, the meaning of "agency" is ambiguous, but it certainly implies that someone will somehow force the world to bend to their will.

Cluely is a company that wholeheartedly embraces this philosophy, the final boss of the "startup economy." Their initial idea was "scamming" (later pivoted to AI notes) and they have raised millions. For them, "scamming" is "agentic," as Sam Kriss wrote in the article "Child's Play," it is indeed "Silicon Valley's hottest commodity":

• The future will belong to those with specific personality traits and psychosexual disorders. AI might code faster than you, but humans still have one advantage, and that's agency, or high agency. Highly agentic people are those who are highly action-oriented.

They act out of fear of permanently becoming the underclass and becoming useless in the age of AI. Apparently, the way to avoid both is to "constantly chase clout online."

Bryan Johnson's approach is highly agentic and highly online. He constantly experiments on himself with supplements and psychedelics, adhering strictly to diet and exercise regimens. This is perhaps the maximum degree of control (or agency?) anyone can have over their own body. In fact, he tries to gain so much control that he almost plays a kind of God.

People have to ask themselves:

• Do I believe his claims that we can live forever?
• Do I believe his body is the proof of concept?
• Do I believe his constant content creation is enough to validate the project?

This quickly evolves into a market of belief, and Bryan Johnson becomes an asset. So does Cluely; investment is based on belief, a belief in control and agency. But once the body (or, in terms of agency, the mind) becomes an object to be optimized, the self becomes an asset class. It's primarily driven by narrative, and once that happens, you've already fallen into the logic of the belief market.

The Belief Market

Prediction markets and cryptocurrencies follow the same logic: betting on narratives rather than fundamentals, gaining a sense of agency through participation. Belief markets promise an escape from limitations (whether physical or financial). They monetize the fear of being left behind, manifesting as:

• I died while others lived
• I didn't cheat while others did
• I became poor while others got rich

All of this signals a shift that is occurring:

• Old capitalism valued productive capacity, the ability to make things.
• Financial capitalism valued cash flow rights, claims on future earnings.
• What we might call belief capitalism values narrative attachment, getting enough people invested in a story for long enough that it holds sway.

Belief markets need to foster the illusion of easy participation to survive. The product they sell is "you can do it too." Coinbase's Brian Armstrong thinks similarly to Bryan Johnson. He is also keen on longevity and biohacking (and prediction markets) and believes that aging should be avoidable in the future.

This philosophy is also reflected in his product. Coinbase's prediction market pitch is, bluntly, "take back control." Its prediction market competitor Kalshi's slogan is "make your descendants proud."

Control your future with a friendly neighborhood betting app. The founder of another prediction market app, Novig, once said only 20% of their users make money, claiming this is far higher than the industry average. That doesn't sound like control, or much of a future.

Everyone is chasing the gold. Everyone is trying to get rich quick and easy, as Allison Schrager wrote, "catch the next wave, and pray for good luck."

The widespread lack of rules, combined with the promise of regaining control that fails to materialize, is the exploitative nature of belief markets. There's a vast chasm between the promise of participation (gaining freedom) and the actual outcome (massive losses, even less freedom than before).

More illustrative than mathematical

Every solution promising control over "systemic failure" is packaged as a product that traps you deeper in the predicament you were trying to escape.

The "Manosphere" Case Study

The extractive logic of belief markets migrates to anywhere there are desperate people, and the "manosphere": this online world promoting masculinity, is an epitome of that desperation. I think the audience for the "manosphere" is actually smaller than perceived, but it vividly illustrates the desire for control, belief markets and their subsequent extraction, and the spectacle economy.

Louis Theroux's documentary "Inside the Manosphere" captures these belief markets in a thought-provoking way. It shows the paranoia of broadcasting one's personal life to thousands. The men featured fear being seen as small, poor, weak, and unattractive, so they create imaginary enemies in their minds (Louis himself became one), and obsess over escaping the "matrix."

"Manosphere" (and other spheres) streamers are essentially like zoo exhibits. People throw snacks into their "cages," demanding they dance (e.g., on Twitch and Kick, streamers receive tens or even hundreds of dollars to answer questions, do backflips, etc.).

This leads to the emergence of "vice signaling" (catering to our darkest impulses), as the audience demands crazier things, and the streamers respond with crazier behavior. This crazy content gets clipped, posted, and shared, aiming for virality. Sometimes these clips are out-of-context interviews, rage-bait content, or worse, and then everyone angrily shares them, they go viral, and society further unravels at the edges. You can even make millions easily just from these video clips.

"Manosphere" influencers are essentially MLM leaders. They recruit young men and women into their trading courses or brokerages, taking a cut of the profits, monetizing their pain and desperation.

Prediction market Polymarket is doing something similar with its new referral program. Prediction market influencers get rewarded for bringing new users to the platform, receiving a share of the fees generated by those new users. Polymarket has also adopted the messaging tactics of the "manosphere." As Stuart Thompson, David Yaffe-Bellany, and Mike Isaac wrote in The New York Times, they "amplify unsubstantiated claims and baseless conspiracy theories from the Trump administration" to "attract young men who are highly likely to become paying users."

They teach people it's easy, it's simple, just watch the crude oil price chart, see if there's a "triple witching day" (PANews Note: Refers to the day when stock index futures, stock index options, and stock options all expire simultaneously in the US stock market; market volatility typically increases significantly around "triple witching days"), or bet on snowfall, or bet on the Oscars, and most importantly, bet on yourself, and you can become a millionaire like me. Yeah, you must have it all easily, because everything is easy now. But it's not. As Benjamin Fogel wrote about "manosphere" leader Andrew Tate:

• He represents a new kind of capitalism that has no illusions about progress. For Tate and his fans, the whole system is a scam, and the only way to succeed is to push others down and climb your way to the top.

Tate is a central figure in the "manosphere," and he never pretends to do anything beneficial. He embraces his "predation, exploitation, and ruthless pursuit of fame and fortune" because it's all a scam. And he has a point. Fogel also notes:

• The decade of slow growth following the financial crisis gave rise to the "hustle economy," characterized by precarious gig work. This economic model was marketed as empowerment but was really just a way to subsidize low incomes. Now, "hustling" has become completely egalitarian. From Amazon drop-shipping to crypto day trading, anyone can get involved.

So, can you really condemn the "manosphere" saying "it's all a scam, the strong prey on the weak," while cheering for excessive stock buybacks or leveraged buyouts (which extract value by loading acquired companies with debt and firing employees)? Is the "manosphere" strategy: extract value from the weak, take no responsibility, and move on; really that different from the private equity model: identify undervalued assets, improve operational efficiency, and return capital to shareholders?

Chaos and nihilism are products of this regressive world, not symptoms. Those peddling "agency" profit in a world where no one trusts institutions because that distrust is the market condition that makes their product necessary. Tate needs the system to be a scam, Polymarket needs uncertainty to be the norm; the worse things are, the more their pitch works.

The "manosphere" fans Theroux interviewed had heartbreaking experiences (as did some of the creators), experiencing homelessness, losing fathers, and unemployment, filled with pain. They watch people like HSTikkyTokky because they want to emulate him, they want to get rich.

The behavior is just a performance, but the message works. People believe it because they are primed to look for quick and easy solutions to these huge, scary problems. As Fogel wrote:

• This has nothing to do with the progressive vision of capitalism, which sees it as a system that can increase productivity through labor-saving technology or by producing actual goods. What it peddles is indebted, anxious, lonely consumerism.

Anxious and lonely people, craving control. The "manosphere" uses spectacle to extract value from despair. AI does the same thing, but it doesn't need a desperate person performing for an audience of the desperate. It replaces reality itself with synthetic feeling. We move from "extraction via spectacle" to "simulation via spectacle"

Spectacle and War

We tend to seek control in all aspects of life, including access to information. Amanda Mull once wrote an article about "monitoring the situation": people (apparently including me) are glued to screens, trying to piece together information. And there is a lot of information to sift through: wars, government partial shutdowns, unstable fiscal policy, a weak labor market, high prices, etc. Scrolling through platforms like Twitter, reading open-source intelligence (OSINT) information, feeling informed, is comforting. As Mull aptly wrote:

• If you can perfectly algorithmize your feed, you might achieve a kind of complete "witnessing" that makes you feel involved, even in control. After all, there is ample evidence that the people dropping the bombs are monitoring the same feeds you are.

We monitor the situation because monitoring itself feels like participation, and governments leverage this, replacing real situations with spectacle. Throughout the war, the White House communicated almost exclusively using AI-generated memes, memes resembling "Fruit Love Island" (a TikTok account where AI-generated fruits act out plotlines of shows), combining video game footage with bombing footage. As Politico reported, a senior White House official expressed a similar sentiment:

• "Bro, we've been over here just making banger memes."

First as farce, then as tragedy, or something like that.

But just as individuals use various means to simulate control, institutions are increasingly using spectacle to simulate the stability they can no longer guarantee. Spectacle is the solution because seriousness requires accountability, accountability requires consequences, and consequences require institutions willing to enforce them. Currently, such institutions do not seem to exist.

The Fed is on hold, doing what it can in the current situation. The government is half-shut down. Corruption is seeping from the sewers, overflowing from the vents. Diplomacy has been replaced by memes. Iran and the US have been conducting this war via Twitter. The Speaker of the Iranian Parliament tweeted:

• We know what's happening in the paper oil market, including the companies hired to influence oil futures. We also see the broader propaganda campaign. But let's see if they can turn this into "actual fuel" at the gas station, or print gasoline molecules!

This is a jab at American financialization and Trump's handling of the war (don't fight during trading hours, fight big on weekends, endless performance). He's right: you can't win a war by posting memes (though the markets seem largely indifferent to all of it so far).

As Juliette Kayyem wrote in The Atlantic regarding the long TSA lines and the plane crash at New York's LaGuardia Airport:

• These two crises seem separate, but they are linked: they are both the result of a style of governance that neglects governance. [...] The Trump administration, in this term, has focused on manufacturing fake threats while ignoring many real ones, such as the continued degradation of the departments and systems meant to protect people, including air travelers.

• Public safety is not a given—Americans are slowly realizing that they can no longer take public safety for granted.

This administration only focuses on fake threats. Baudrillard, Debord, Postman, and others foresaw all of this. People see it coming too. But now, the real crises are here. This is an economic war, with 25% of global oil trade and nearly half of urea (agricultural fertilizer) at risk. Oil prices could spike to $200 a barrel, triggering another inflationary spiral worse than the COVID one. And all for what? People are dying. Such immense risk, seemingly just for... engagement?

In such a world, what can people do but try to control what they can, pursue optimization, exhibit "agency"? When uncertainty is the dominant force and the path to a different direction is unclear, people naturally seek quick fixes and simple solutions. What else can they do?

Return

It feels like if Trump had an "Ozempic" for geopolitics, he would have injected it by now. But, we don't have a "peptide cocktail" for the economy, at least not yet. Faced with this multi-year instability, the cultural response of seeking quick solutions that seem like optimization but are actually逃避 (escape) from the root problems is understandable.

• These solutions only address the symptoms (I feel out of control),
• without touching the root causes ((broken economic ladder).

​​The pain driving people into the "manosphere," prediction markets, and speculation is real. But the entire model is built on nihilistic foundations.

Raymond Williams wrote in 1961: "Every aspect of our personal lives is affected by the quality of our common life," yet we insist on seeing problems in purely individual terms. The so-called "personal control" is not real control. Real control would be supra-individual, meaning affordability, functioning institutions, and as Kayyem said, a government that actually governs. What is being sold instead is a sense of personal control through gambling, hacking, feeds, subscriptions, optimization.

The reason we can't solve the problems isn't a lack of tools or information, but because the method (adding, optimizing, measuring) is not suited to the problem (finding the source of the poisoning). Do the slow, boring work, don't presume omnipotence. Perhaps the economy (like the human body) needs more of an "elimination diet." People are trying this, like NYC's Mamdani Chief Savings Officer. What can we cut to function more healthily?

Williams also wrote that the true radical is making hope possible, rather than making despair convincing. Despair is very convincing right now, and very profitable. Hope is the opposite: it works without requiring you to feel despair.

Related reading: Goldman Sachs interprets "How long will the Iran war last": The market has only traded "inflation," not yet "recession"