From 30,000 feet, Britain’s coastline has a familiar sweep and shape. Zoom closer in – to, say, the cliffs of Dover – and it becomes less easy to comprehend. All you can see is a confusing series of jagged edges; down on the beach, peering at rocks with a magnifying glass, the coastline refuses to resolve itself into a regular pattern. The closer you look, the more that comprehension eludes you.
Reality is annoying like that: at every level of examination, it raises more questions than answers. There are always details that don’t fit, exceptions to rules, consequences that can’t be predicted. That’s why humans, who famously cannot bear too much reality, have evolved a method of coping with all this complexity: we lie to ourselves about how much we understand.
More here – The New Statesman
PS: What is interesting about this is that within markets this problem is perceived to be overcome by the generation of a narrative. The narrative implies knowledge and knowledge implies control. The more detailed your narrative the more control you perceive you have and the greater the conviction. To my mind trading is a profession of surrender – you surrender to your own lack of knowledge and to the market. I am fortunate, I freely admit that I know nothing.
Sounding a tad Socratic there Chris.
Reminds me of a song I heard from long ago, however the title eludes me. From memory it went something like this.
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Guess we humans have a need to fit or comply or have a label. If not we fall to pieces.
And the best label. I am different, I know who and what I am.
I like my anonymity, i belong in there amongst the human race.