People are wired to fill the void. That’s not a metaphor—it’s biology. Our brains are pattern-seeking, meaning-making machines. When there’s a gap, we don’t leave it be. We fill it. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically.
The Attention Economy
The attention economy is basically a digital thunderdome where every app, platform, and notification is fighting to the death for the privilege of occupying your brain’s real estate. Your smartphone isn’t a tool—it’s a needy ex that won’t stop texting, except this ex has shareholders and a billion-dollar advertising budget. We’re all walking around with existential cavities that we keep trying to fill with TikTok videos and LinkedIn hot takes, but it’s like trying to cure hunger with cotton candy—temporarily sweet, ultimately hollow. The platforms have figured out that keeping us slightly miserable is more profitable than making us genuinely happy, because satisfied people don’t refresh their feeds every thirty seconds. Welcome to the attention casino, where the house always wins and the chips are measured in dopamine hits.
The Competition Is Everywhere
If a friend ghosts us, we don’t think: “They’re probably just busy.” No. We spiral. We tell stories. We assign blame. Or we move on and call someone else.
If a boss stops giving us feedback or investing in our growth, we don’t sit quietly and trust it’ll work out. We update our résumé.
If a partner becomes emotionally distant, most people don’t lean into empathy—they lean into distraction. Or attention elsewhere. Or infidelity.
Even the body plays this game. Ask former smokers. One of the most common side effects after quitting? Weight gain. Not because nicotine was the only thing keeping them thin, but because the body needs to fill the habit. That oral fixation—something in the mouth, something to do with the hands—gets replaced by snacking. Research shows that more than 80% of smokers gain weight after quitting. It’s not just about biology—it’s about behavioral voids that demand to be filled.
We can debate the ethics of those responses all day. But the pattern? The pattern is human. People fill the silence. They close the gaps. And if you’re not the one providing what they need, someone else—or something else—will.
The Science Backs This Up
A 2014 study in Science found that people would rather self-administer electric shocks than be left alone with their thoughts for just 6 to 15 minutes. The researchers called it “just thinking,” and participants hated it. That’s how deeply uncomfortable we are with empty space. With nothingness. With voids.
Same goes for relationships. Attachment theory—first defined by Bowlby and expanded by Ainsworth—shows that anxious attachment forms when emotional availability is inconsistent. That inconsistency creates anxiety, overreaching, and a desperate need to fill the gaps. People don’t just want connection—they crave it. And when they’re not getting it from you, they seek it elsewhere.
In the workplace, Gallup’s 2023 report found that only 23% of employees worldwide are actively engaged at work. One of the top drivers of disengagement? A lack of recognition and development. Translation: you didn’t see them, invest in them, or support them—and now they’re shopping for something better.
The Void Doesn’t Stay Empty
That’s the truth in every kind of relationship—professional, personal, romantic, platonic.
If you don’t show up, something else will.
And let’s be clear: what fills the space isn’t always better. It’s not always healthy. But it will be something.
Here’s the hard part most people don’t want to hear:
You don’t get to create the void… and then get angry when someone else fills it.
You don’t get to neglect your employee for months and then act shocked when they take another offer.
You don’t get to tune out of your marriage and then feel betrayed when your partner turns to someone else.
You don’t get to disappear as a friend and still expect to be the first call when things go sideways.
We love to blame the person who walked away, who moved on, who “replaced” us.
But very few of us want to admit we left the door open in the first place.
So if the space gets filled—if someone else steps in where you once stood—start by looking in the mirror. Ask yourself what you stopped giving. What you ignored. What you assumed was “fine.”
Better yet, don’t let the void happen at all.
Because attention, effort, kindness, presence—they’re not optional. They’re oxygen.
Remove them, and something else will rush in to take their place.
Always.