John Kay

The presidency of the French Republic is a job description written for one man – Charles de Gaulle – and no one else has since filled the post with much distinction.

When we make hiring decisions, or construct risk maps, or undertake investment appraisals we complete templates, the purpose of which is not to help us manage or decide but to rationalise what we already believe we know.

The petty, pragmatic character of Scottish concerns is appropriate, and in a sense reassuring. We should feel relieved that the passions expressed at Bannockburn, or Waterloo, or that prompted Paul Revere’s ride, no longer feature in the politics of western Europe.

Young people might reasonably ask their parents or grandparents why a much richer society cannot now provide the benefits it provided for an earlier generation. I am not sure I have a good answer.

Probabilistic thinking requires us to recognise both that something might happen and that it is unlikely that it will. Because this is difficult, we are always surprised, shocked, and inadequately prepared for extreme events.

Faced with the choice of over a hundred 100 jams, I reduced the number of alternatives to 30 or so, and then … well, I finally walked out of the shop without having bought any jam at all. People are overwhelmed by variety of choice.

Irrationality lies not in failing to conform to some preconceived notion of how we should behave, but in persisting with a course of action that does not work.

Wherever there is uncertainty, market prices reflect the beliefs of those who are more than averagely sanguine. The result is a reserve of illusory value, constantly depleted by events and replenished by fresh uncertainties.

Most people dislike confrontation, and, given time, an aggressive minority will find itself alienated. Meet the reasonable demands, and appear to treat the unreasonable ones with seriousness; always engage in discussion, however futile.