John Kay

The argument that we need the best and latest is powerful in political decision making, even among people who would never behave that way in their everyday lives.

The only reasonable response to the question “what will interest rates be in 20 years’ time?” is “we simply do not know”.

We are not interested in whether companies make good or bad cost-benefit calculations. We are interested in what these calculations tell us about their values.

The idea that there is something called “the economy”, which is separable from the welfare of society and its citizens, is silly. There isn’t.

Gresham’s Law – bad money drives out good – dates from an era of metallic currency: debased coins circulated, genuine ones were hoarded.

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.