Learning the Loom band boom

Even the CEO is wearing one today. It’s got that bad.

If you don’t already know what a Loom band is then… Well, it’s pretty unlikely really, isn’t it? The Loom band is to 2014 what the hula-hoop was to the summer of 1958 — a craze for a child’s toy that has transcended its demographic boundaries and exploded into popular consciousness to become for very many families a simple, ubiquitous, though hopefully temporary fact of everyday life.

Like many such toy crazes, part of the psychological appeal that is so irresistible to young minds is the fact that there is a knack to it that has to be learned, practiced and developed. Initially, the new toy represents an enigma — What is it? How do you do it? — that with patience and practice they can go on to solve. Looms have this built into them from the very beginning — they’re bought as a building material, not a finished artefact. The difference between the inert individual bands in their drab packaging, and the vibrant, colourful accessories they become is so marked that curious minds and nimble fingers are unable to resist exploring them, compelled to master the mystery. There is a real empathy for their intended audience worked into the fabric of the product itself.

Once mastered, the act of acquiring the skill itself provides a sense of personal satisfaction that is attested and publicly displayed by the act of wearing the bands you’ve made. More complex weaving methods, proudly worn by their maker, become a symbol of skill and status to impress others ‘in the know’.

That so much of this knowledge is alien to their parents is another huge psychological incentive for the children whose passion for the bands have helped sell millions of Loom packs this year. Wearing the bands, and making them yourself, are the ticket for entry to a generational in-group that deliberately excludes an adult world which spends much of its time telling children what they can and especially can’t do. When a child gifts a finished bracelet or necklace to an adult they are really extending an invitation to join the gang, an act of authority and social power that children are rarely able to exercise.

So far, so normal. These dynamics, fascinating as they are, are very little different to the reasons the aforementioned hula or any number of seemingly bizarre youth trends catch on and take off. (It also explains why they are also always short-lived: once they become ubiquitous, the social value of being part of the in-group diminishes rapidly. There’s an obvious but inevitable paradox here: the only reliable way to free yourself from a craze is to hurry up and give in to it!)

The one thing that is significantly different about Looms as a children’s craze is how social technology has been involved in its spread. Note, not ‘teen’ craze: there have of course been social media-enhanced crazes for tech-addicted teens for years. This is the first to arise in a world where people not yet into double figures are using the social web every day. This means that the Looms are also by default a pan-generational craze. Children aged six to eleven do not have the same independent existence enjoyed by teenagers. If a kid of seven years old is into something, their parents have to be too, whether they like it or not!

Leaping this generation gap has been where social media has really come in handy.

The really different, and really interesting thing about Loom bands, is the way that social media technologies have played a part in sharing the information. Without the handy information sharing space of the playground, parents trying to figure out what the heck is going on have been forced to find out online. Seeking to impress my daughter, I was taught how to make a Loom band in five minutes by someone else’s child an ocean away in the USA, who had posted a handy Youtube video about it. Very useful it was too – fishscale-style, pretty advanced for a beginner!

The effortless distances of space (thousands of miles) and time (several decades of life) that information had to travel in order to land in my rusty old head is one of the casual miracles of technology that today’s world is built of. Men old enough to know better instantly learning arcane skills from children smart beyond their years. Strange as it may seem, this is what learning is like now. It happens informally, as required, and you can do it on your phone while walking home from work. These technologies have the power to drive a global phenomenon like the Loom band, but more significant than a here today, gone tomorrow kids’ toy, it’s teaching multiple generations that social learning is the natural means of answering the questions and solving the problems they face.