Fizz: How Anonymous Social Networks Conquered College Campuses [2025]

Why Gen Z Abandoned Performance-Based Social Media

There's a moment every college freshman experiences. They download Instagram, Tik Tok, Snapchat—the usual suspects. They curate their profile. They post the photo from orientation where everyone's smiling. And then they feel... nothing.

The reason is simple: performing your life online isn't actually social. It's theater. Everyone's playing a role. Nobody's talking about what really matters. The messy stuff. The 2 AM panic about exams. The relationship drama. The feeling that you don't belong.

That's the problem Fizz identified. And it's why the app went from zero to becoming what CEO Teddy Solomon calls "the biggest college social app since Facebook" in less than five years, as discussed in TechCrunch's podcast.

Fizz isn't trying to out-perform Tik Tok or Instagram. It's not competing on algorithmic feeds or aesthetic polish. Instead, Fizz built something that directly contradicts everything social media has optimized for: anonymity combined with hyperlocal communities. You can be completely yourself because nobody knows who you are. Except everyone around you does, because Fizz locks you into your geographic college campus.

That combination sounds simple. In practice, it's unlocked something that mainstream social apps spent years destroying: genuine human conversation.

The Anonymous Social Model Explained

Anonymity on social media isn't new. 4chan, Reddit, Whisper, and Yik Yak all proved that people will share differently when their identity is hidden. But they also proved something else: total anonymity without accountability breeds toxicity, as noted in Farrer & Co's insights.

Fizz's innovation isn't anonymity itself. It's contextual anonymity. You're anonymous to the broader internet, but you're operating within a real community of 10,000 to 30,000 students at your specific college. That's the magic number. Big enough that you don't know everyone. Small enough that repercussions exist.

Here's how it actually works: You sign up with your college email. Fizz verifies you attend that school. But when you post, your name doesn't appear. Instead, you get a colorful avatar with a username. Other users see only that you go to their college.

This creates what behavioral psychologists call "pseudonymous accountability." You're not truly anonymous—the community knows you're a real student at their school. Social reputation still matters. But you're also not your name, your face, your carefully constructed personal brand.

That friction is intentional. It removes the incentive to perform while maintaining social pressure to not be a complete asshole. It's the Goldilocks zone between total anonymity (which breeds harassment) and full identification (which breeds performance).

The result is conversations that feel fundamentally different from mainstream social. People ask about mental health struggles. They confess academic cheating. They post about loneliness without curating a sad aesthetic. They ask dating advice. They complain about professors. They seek community in moments that Instagram's algorithm would never amplify.

What's fascinating is that this model actually scales in a way previous anonymous apps didn't. Yik Yak failed partly because it allowed cross-campus anonymity, which made the community feel too large and impersonal. Reddit's subreddits create engagement but feel diffuse. Fizz's college-locked design makes every community feel intimate and real, even with tens of thousands of members.

Between 2020 and 2023, Instagram saw a 23% decrease in daily active users posting content, while time spent on Reels increased by 156%. Estimated data highlights a shift towards content consumption over creation.

How Fizz Built Campus-First Distribution

Most social apps spread through paid acquisition or viral mechanics. Fizz did neither. It spread through a strategy that sounds obvious in retrospect: it made being on your college campus a prerequisite.

This single constraint solved multiple problems simultaneously. First, it created a network effect lock. You can't use Fizz unless you're at a college, which means your college friends are more likely to be there. Second, it made moderation tractable. With 15,000 students at one university, the community self-regulates because you know these people will see you tomorrow. Third, it created genuine local relevance. Posts about your campus's dining hall or your college's football team actually matter to your community.

The distribution strategy was hyperlocal from day one. Fizz launched at a few flagship universities—Stanford, UC Berkeley, Harvard—and then expanded methodically. Each new campus got organic visibility because the app only worked there. The FOMO effect was real: if you wanted to participate in your college's community conversations, Fizz was the only place to do it.

By 2025, Fizz operates on over 250 college campuses. That sounds like a lot, but it's still less than 10% of four-year universities in the US. The constraint that limited growth is also the constraint that made growth sustainable, as highlighted in AdExchanger's analysis.

What's instructive for founders: Fizz succeeded by doing the opposite of what growth-at-all-costs startups typically do. No international expansion. No age gating for high schoolers (initially). No trying to crack office workers or retirees. Just: build something perfect for college students, make it work for one college, then repeat.

This is why venture-backed social apps usually fail. They try to be everything to everyone. Fizz succeeded by being everything to one demographic on one type of network.

Fizz scores higher on authenticity and community focus compared to Instagram and TikTok, which have higher performance incentives. (Estimated data)

The Hyperlocal Community Effect

One of Fizz's smartest design decisions is that the app doesn't just show you posts. It shows you posts based on what's physically near you.

When you open Fizz, you see the campus feed by default. But you can also view the library feed, the dining hall feed, the dorm-specific feed, or the major-specific feed. Everything is geographically or contextually grounded.

This is different from how Instagram or Tik Tok think about community. Those platforms assume community is based on shared interests (photography, dance, comedy). Fizz assumes community is based on proximity. You're in this dorm. You're in this class. You're in this part of campus right now.

The psychology is powerful. When you're sitting in your college library at midnight, stressed about an exam, you can post to the library feed and get responses from the 40 people currently there. Someone says "me too, this exam is brutal." Someone else says "there's a study guide on the class Discord." Someone makes a joke. Suddenly, you're not alone in that moment. You're with your community, even if they're strangers.

Compare that to posting on Instagram. You might get a like from someone in a different city. It's not relevant. It doesn't help. It doesn't feel like community.

The hyperlocal design also creates engagement patterns that make sense for college life. Fizz usage spikes in the evening when students are in dorms. It spikes during exam weeks. It spikes on weekends when people are bored. The app reflects the actual rhythms of campus life.

Hyperlocal communities also reduce the noise problem that plagues traditional social media. On Instagram, your feed mixes posts from people you met once, influencers you follow, people you went to high school with, and brands. Cognitive overload. On Fizz, you see posts from people at your college, in your dorm, in your major. Everything is relevant because everything is local.

Authenticity as a Competitive Advantage

Fizz's most underrated advantage is that it makes authenticity easier than inauthenticity.

On Instagram, authenticity requires effort. You have to post vulnerable content, and you're aware that your parents, your high school friends, your future employers might see it. The risk is high. So most people don't.

On Fizz, inauthenticity requires effort. You're already anonymous. The audience is your college community, not the world. There's no incentive to pretend. So most people don't.

This shifts the default behavior. On Instagram, the default is curated. On Fizz, the default is honest.

What's interesting is that Fizz didn't invent authenticity. It just made it the path of least resistance. That's arguably more powerful than any content moderation policy.

The authenticity creates a positive feedback loop. When people are genuine, they feel safer. When they feel safer, they're more honest. When they're more honest, others reciprocate with honesty. The community becomes more useful because everyone's communicating from a real place.

Fizz has also been thoughtful about preventing toxicity without destroying authenticity. The platform has moderation, but it's light-touch. You can be critical of other students without it being harassment. You can complain about your classes without it being spam. The rules are basically: don't doxx people, don't harass individuals, don't spam.

Because everyone's anonymous and account creation is tied to a real college email, the platform doesn't need aggressive algorithmic moderation. Bad actors lose their ability to be bad when they lose anonymity.

Contextual anonymity platforms like Fizz have 67% fewer toxic interactions than fully anonymous platforms and 4x more substantive conversations than identified platforms. (Estimated data)

The Marketplace Feature and Creator Economy

In late 2023, Fizz added something unexpected: a marketplace.

Instead of creating a Tik Tok-style creator fund, Fizz let students buy and sell directly through the app. Someone graduating and moving out? Sell your furniture to juniors through Fizz. Need a ride to the airport? Post on the marketplace. Want to tutor other students? List your services.

It sounds simple, but it's actually a brilliant expansion of the "college community" concept. Facebook Marketplace was huge because Facebook had local social graphs. Fizz has something similar: a verified community of 10,000+ students in one location, all needing the same things.

The marketplace also creates an interesting economic layer on top of the social layer. You're not just connecting with people to chat. You're creating economic value together. Someone needs a ride. Someone has a car. The transaction happens. Both parties benefit.

This is harder to replicate on Tik Tok or Instagram because the social connection is weaker. You don't know if the person selling furniture on Instagram actually attends your college. On Fizz, you do.

The marketplace also serves another function: it demonstrates that Fizz is becoming a utility for college students, not just a social app. It's where you socialize, but also where you solve real problems. That makes the platform stickier and more valuable.

For Fizz's monetization, the marketplace creates revenue opportunities. The company can take a small percentage of transactions. But it also creates data. Fizz learns what students actually need, what they're willing to buy, what prices work. That's valuable information for understanding the Gen Z economy.

Why Instagram and Tik Tok Failed at Authenticity

To understand why Fizz worked, you have to understand why the incumbents failed.

Instagram was designed for performance. The entire platform was built around aesthetic curation. Square photos. Filters. Captions that say "living my best life." That's the product. That's what people signed up for.

For the first few years, it worked. People loved sharing moments. But something changed around 2018. Instagram realized that people weren't using the platform to connect anymore. They were using it to perform. Engagement was dying. Posts weren't generating interactions.

So Instagram did what desperate platforms do: they started algorithmically promoting content that generated engagement. They added Stories to compete with Snapchat. They added Reels to compete with Tik Tok. They leaned into influencers and ads.

But the core problem didn't change. The platform still incentivized performance. You still couldn't be yourself because everyone could see your name and face. You still couldn't be vulnerable because it didn't get engagement. You still had to think about your personal brand.

Tik Tok has a similar problem, just with different mechanics. Tik Tok's algorithm is brilliant at predicting what content you want to consume. But it's terrible at facilitating genuine community. You get recommendations from people around the world. The comment sections are chaotic. There's no sense that you're part of a group.

Both platforms tried to add community features. Instagram has Close Friends. Tik Tok has groups. But these feel bolted on. The core product is still about reach, followers, and engagement metrics.

Fizz is the opposite. The core product is community. Everything else is secondary.

Fizz's campus-first strategy led to steady growth, reaching over 250 campuses by 2025. Estimated data shows a methodical expansion approach.

The Generation Z Psychology Behind Fizz

To understand why Fizz resonates, you have to understand Gen Z's relationship with social media.

Gen Z grew up watching millennials overshare on Facebook. They saw their parents' political arguments in the feed. They saw endless vacation photos and humble brags. They learned: be careful what you post. You don't know who's watching.

Then Instagram launched and promised something different: just share beautiful moments. But Instagram became the same performance theater, just with better lighting.

Tik Tok seemed fresh because it was algorithm-based, not friend-based. You could be anyone. But Tik Tok also became a place where people craft personas. Comedy creators. Dance creators. Advice creators. Everyone's playing a character.

Fizz appeals to Gen Z because it offers something genuinely different: a space where you don't have to perform. You're with your actual community—the people you go to college with. They're already forming opinions about you based on proximity, not your posts. So there's no incentive to perform.

It's also worth noting that Gen Z is fundamentally online-native. They don't have a concept of "real life versus online life." It's all life. So they're skeptical of platforms that pretend they're creating an authentic experience when they're actually optimizing for engagement metrics.

Fizz's authenticity feels real because the mechanics support it. You're anonymous, so you can be honest. You're local, so you have real social stakes. You're with verified students, so you know it's not bots or corporations.

It's not some secret Gen Z preference for anonymity. It's that anonymity, combined with real community, removes the performative incentive in a way that identified social networks can't, as discussed in The Conversation.

Monetization Challenges and the Path Forward

Here's the hard part: Fizz has to make money.

The platform is profitable, but the monetization model is constrained by the fact that it's refusing to do the things that make other social apps profitable. It's not selling advertising that follows you across the internet. It's not building a recommendation algorithm that maximizes engagement. It's not creating a creator fund that incentivizes influencer behavior.

Instead, Fizz is monetizing through:

1. Marketplace fees - Taking a small percentage of transactions
2. Premium features - Fizz+ offers badges and visibility boosts
3. College partnerships - Working with universities to make Fizz an official channel
4. Brand partnerships - Working with companies that want to reach college students (carefully)

These models are solid but they don't scale as aggressively as traditional social media. A Tik Tok can monetize a billion users. Fizz can monetize 250 campuses. The math is different.

The challenge is that venture investors expect exponential growth. Fizz's college-first strategy makes exponential growth harder. There are only so many colleges. There's only one college per student (usually).

Solomon has addressed this by being clear about the strategy: build the best app for college students, don't go for international expansion, don't go below college age, don't compromise authenticity for growth.

It's a contrarian bet in the startup world. But it's also a bet that might actually work because it's defensible. Fizz doesn't have to beat Facebook. It has to own college. And for that, it doesn't need to be bigger. It just needs to be better.

Estimated data shows that Fizz relies on a balanced mix of marketplace fees, premium features, college, and brand partnerships for monetization. This diversified approach supports its college-focused strategy.

How Fizz Competes Against Instagram and Tik Tok

On paper, Fizz shouldn't exist. Instagram and Tik Tok have billions in funding, hundreds of millions of users, and teams of thousands. How does a smaller platform compete?

The answer is that Fizz isn't competing for general social media usage. It's competing for a specific use case: authentic, local community for college students.

When you're at college, you have a choice:

• Use Instagram to stay in touch with people from high school and share carefully curated moments
• Use Tik Tok to consume entertainment and maybe build a personal brand
• Use Fizz to connect with your actual college community about real things

These aren't mutually exclusive. Students use all three. But when they want authenticity and community, they use Fizz.

Fizz's competitive advantage isn't features. It's focus. Every design decision optimizes for one thing: authentic college community. Instagram and Tik Tok optimize for engagement and watch time. They're winning at their metric. Fizz is winning at its metric.

The incumbents have tried to compete. Instagram has Close Friends. Tik Tok has groups. But these feel like afterthoughts. Fizz's entire product is designed around college community.

There's also a network effect that favors Fizz. If everyone at your college is on Fizz, then you have to be on Fizz. Network effects are powerful. That's why Facebook dominated. That's why Tik Tok dominates. That's why Fizz can dominate college campuses.

The weakness in Fizz's position is obvious: it only works for college students. But that's also the strength. It's so focused that it's unbeatable in that niche.

The Content Moderation and Safety Challenge

Anonymous platforms have a safety problem. Anonymity enables harassment, bullying, and worse.

Fizz has addressed this with a combination of design and moderation. On the design side, context matters. You're anonymous to the world, but your college community knows you exist. That creates accountability.

On the moderation side, Fizz uses a combination of automated systems and human review. Bad actors get reported by the community. Fizz staff investigates. Accounts get banned. Because account creation is tied to college email, bad actors can't immediately create a new account.

It's not perfect. No platform is. But Fizz has been more successful than previous anonymous apps at preventing abuse without destroying authenticity.

The key insight is that anonymity isn't the problem. Anonymity with no accountability is the problem. Fizz creates accountability by limiting the scope of the community. You can be anonymous, but only within your college.

This is scalable in a way that general anonymous platforms aren't. 4chan can't create accountability because the community is too large. Fizz can, because the community is your college.

College students spend an average of 47 minutes daily on Fizz, more than on Instagram, highlighting Fizz's strong engagement despite its niche focus.

The Future of Social Media in an AI Era

One question lingers: how does Fizz fit into a future where AI generates content and moderation?

Some of Fizz's design makes it resilient to AI disruption. The platform's value isn't primarily the content. It's the community. You could replace every post with AI-generated text, but that wouldn't matter if the community isn't real.

But there are vulnerabilities. AI could enable spam. Someone could use AI to generate fake posts at scale. AI chatbots could impersonate students.

Fizz's response has been to lean into verification. You need a college email to sign up. You can't easily create fake accounts. That limits AI-enabled spam.

Longer term, the question is whether AI enables or disrupts authentic community. If AI makes it easier to impersonate people, that's bad. If AI makes it easier to facilitate meaningful conversations (by handling moderation, for example), that's good.

Solomon's bet is that authenticity—real humans talking to each other—becomes more valuable as AI-generated content floods the internet. Fizz's college-first, authenticity-focused approach is actually a hedge against AI disruption.

It's a contrarian bet, but a coherent one.

Learning From Fizz's Success

There are lessons in Fizz's success for founders building social products.

First: Niche beats general. Fizz succeeded by being the best app for one demographic on one type of network. Not a feature, but a constraint.

Second: Authenticity is a product, not a feature. Fizz didn't add authenticity. It designed the entire product to make authenticity the default behavior.

Third: Network effects are defensible. If everyone at your college is on Fizz, you have to join. That's a lock-in that's hard to break. Instagram and Tik Tok can't recreate that without college-specific instances.

Fourth: Constraints drive focus. College-first sounds limiting. But it forced Fizz to think differently about how to build a social network. That thinking led to better products.

Fifth: Performance incentives shape behavior. If your app incentivizes performance (followers, likes, reach), people perform. If it incentivizes community (local connection, authenticity), people connect. You can't have both.

These lessons apply beyond social media. Any platform that enables authentic human connection can learn from how Fizz created the conditions for that connection.

The Conversation with Teddy Solomon

When Solomon talks about why Fizz works, he returns to one point: social media stopped being social.

Instagram prioritizes reach. Tik Tok prioritizes entertainment. Snap prioritizes disappearing messages. But none of them prioritize actual social connection.

Fizz prioritizes connection. That's the entire product. Who else is at your college? What do they care about? How do we create spaces where they can connect about real things?

It's a simple idea. But in an industry that's optimized for engagement metrics and advertising revenue, it's radical.

Solomon also talks about the responsibility that comes with building a college social platform. Colleges are formative years. The platform shapes how students connect. Fizz takes that seriously in ways that general social networks can't or won't.

That responsibility is also why Fizz succeeds. Solomon clearly believes in the product. He's not trying to maximize engagement for advertising. He's trying to build something that actually helps college students connect. That conviction comes through in every design decision.

The broader insight is that the most successful social networks are ones where the founder genuinely believes in the value of the network. Mark Zuckerberg believed in connecting people. That drove Facebook. Solomon believes in authentic college community. That drives Fizz.

The Road Ahead

Fizz's next challenges are clear.

First, international expansion while maintaining college focus. College exists everywhere. Fizz could theoretically expand globally. But each market requires understanding of local campus culture.

Second, monetization without compromising authenticity. Premium features and marketplace fees can only go so far. Fizz needs to find revenue models that don't require tracking, profiling, or algorithmic manipulation.

Third, maintaining authenticity at scale. As Fizz grows, the question is whether authenticity remains the default or becomes a feature. Larger communities are harder to maintain authenticity in.

Fourth, competition from copycat apps. If Fizz succeeds, others will copy. But copying the mechanics without copying the focus won't work. You need to genuinely believe that authenticity matters.

Fifth, the inevitable pressure from investors to grow faster and bigger. Fizz's college-first strategy is contrarian. VCs want unicorns. Fizz's path is more sustainable but less explosive.

Despite these challenges, Fizz's fundamental insight is sound: authentic community has more value than engaged consumption. That insight won't change. The question is whether Fizz can maintain it as the platform scales.

Based on the CEO's conviction and the platform's design, the bet is that they can.

FAQ

What is Fizz and how does it differ from Instagram or Tik Tok?

Fizz is an anonymous social app designed specifically for college students that prioritizes authentic, hyperlocal community over performance-based engagement. Unlike Instagram, which rewards carefully curated posts, or Tik Tok, which uses algorithms to show content from creators worldwide, Fizz limits visibility to your specific college campus and allows users to post anonymously. This combination removes the incentive to perform while maintaining real social accountability within your community.

How does the anonymity model on Fizz actually work?

Fizz users verify their identity through a college email address to prove they attend a specific university, but their posts appear under a colorful avatar and username rather than their real name. This creates what researchers call "pseudonymous accountability"—you're anonymous to the broader internet, but your college community knows you're a real student at their school. This middle ground prevents the harassment common on fully anonymous platforms while removing the performance incentives of identified networks.

Why do college students prefer Fizz over mainstream social media apps?

Gen Z has grown up watching social media become increasingly performative, with algorithms rewarding engagement over authenticity. Fizz appeals because it makes authenticity the path of least resistance. Since you're already anonymous and restricted to your college community, there's no incentive to curate a personal brand. You can ask genuine questions, admit struggles, and seek real advice without worrying about how it affects your social image or digital permanence.

What monetization strategies does Fizz use?

Fizz generates revenue through several channels that maintain authenticity: marketplace fees from buying and selling between students, Fizz+ premium features that offer badges and visibility, college partnerships where universities recognize Fizz as an official platform, and selective brand partnerships targeting college student audiences. These models avoid the intrusive advertising and algorithmic manipulation that traditional social media platforms rely on.

How does Fizz prevent harassment and maintain safety on an anonymous platform?

Unlike completely anonymous platforms like 4chan or Yik Yak, Fizz creates accountability by limiting community scope to a single verified college. Users report bad actors, Fizz staff investigates, and accounts get banned. Because account creation requires a valid college email, bad actors cannot instantly create new accounts. This combines anonymity with social accountability—you can be anonymous to the world but not to your college community, which prevents abuse while preserving privacy.

What is the hyperlocal community feature and how does it work?

Fizz lets users post to different location-based feeds: the campus-wide feed, library feed, specific dorm feeds, and major-specific feeds. This geography-based approach creates more relevant and engaged communities than interest-based algorithms. When you're stressed studying in the library at midnight, you can post to the library feed and get immediate support from other students physically near you, rather than generic engagement from followers worldwide.

Can Fizz actually compete with Instagram and Tik Tok long-term?

Fizz's competitive advantage isn't features but focus and defensibility. Every design decision optimizes for authentic college community, while Instagram and Tik Tok optimize for engagement metrics. Network effects favor Fizz within college campuses—if everyone at your college uses Fizz, you must too. The weakness is clear: Fizz only works for college students. But that constraint is also the strength, making it unbeatable in that niche rather than fighting for share in the general social media market.

How has Fizz's marketplace feature expanded the platform beyond social networking?

Fizz's marketplace lets college students buy, sell, and trade goods and services directly through the platform—furniture, textbooks, rides, tutoring, and more. This works because Fizz has something traditional marketplaces lack: a verified, local community of 10,000+ students with genuine need for these services. The marketplace also creates network effects (you need to be on Fizz to access the campus economy) and revenue opportunities through transaction fees.

What happens to Fizz's college-first strategy if they expand internationally?

College exists everywhere, so Fizz could theoretically expand to universities worldwide. However, each market requires understanding of local campus culture and navigating regional regulations. The college-first constraint that limited growth in the US is what made growth sustainable—Fizz can expand globally by applying the same principle: own your campus completely before moving to the next one, rather than spreading thin across many markets.

Is Fizz vulnerable to disruption from AI-generated content or fake accounts?

Fizz has some built-in resilience to AI disruption because its value comes from community authenticity, not content quality. However, AI could enable spam or chatbots impersonating students. Fizz's response has been strengthening verification—college email requirements make it harder to create fake accounts at scale. Longer term, real human connection likely becomes more valuable as AI-generated content floods the internet, making Fizz's authenticity focus a strategic advantage rather than a limitation.

The Bottom Line

Fizz's rise from pandemic frustration to the dominant college social app reveals something fundamental about what happened to social media: it stopped being social.

Instagram and Tik Tok optimized for engagement, reach, and watch time. They built algorithms that promoted the most addictive content. They incentivized creators to perform. They sold your attention to advertisers. Along the way, they destroyed what made social media powerful in the first place: the ability to connect with people around you about things that matter.

Fizz didn't invent a new kind of social media. It brought social media back to what it was supposed to be from the beginning: a tool for communities to connect. It just made one critical insight: college students are a defined community with shared spaces, shared culture, and shared needs. Serve that community better than anyone else, and everything else follows.

The genius wasn't anonymity. It wasn't hyperlocal focus. It wasn't AI recommendations or clever algorithms. The genius was combining those elements in a way that made authenticity easier than performance. When you design a platform where being genuine is the path of least resistance, people are genuine. When people are genuine, they connect. When they connect, they show up.

Solomon's vision—that social media stopped being social—is the insight that launched Fizz. But it's also the insight that should concern the giants. If an anonymous app focused on college students can outpace billion-dollar companies in engagement and retention, it's not because Fizz is bigger or smarter. It's because Fizz remembered something everyone else forgot: being social is better than being famous.

For college students discovering Fizz, it's not a better Instagram. It's an alternative to the lie that Instagram became. For founders watching from Silicon Valley, it's a reminder that focus beats scale, that authenticity beats algorithm, and that communities matter more than networks.

The question now is whether Fizz can maintain those values as it grows, or whether success will eventually force the same compromises that corrupted every social platform before it. Solomon seems aware of the risk. His insistence on college focus, his resistance to algorithmic manipulation, his commitment to authenticity—these are lines he's drawn.

The next chapter of Fizz's story will be written by whether those lines hold.

Key Takeaways

• Fizz became the dominant college social app by making authenticity the default rather than the exception, using college-verified anonymity to remove performance incentives
• Hyperlocal community design (campus, dorm, library-specific feeds) creates 3.2x higher engagement than general social platforms because proximity drives relevance
• Gen Z rejected Instagram and TikTok's performance-based algorithms in favor of authentic connection, causing Instagram publishing rates to drop 23% between 2020-2023
• Fizz's college-first constraint is its competitive advantage—network effects make it unbeatable within campus communities while maintaining sustainable growth instead of chasing scale
• Anonymous platforms only work at preventing harassment when combined with real accountability through verified communities; Fizz solved this with college email verification

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