Although it was published three years ago, when the financial crisis was much fresher in our minds, the essays in [amazon_link id=”B0055X32GG” target=”_blank” ]What’s Next? unconventional wisdom on the future of the world economy[/amazon_link] (edited by David Hale and Lyric Hughes Hale) remain interesting.

[amazon_image id=”B0055X32GG” link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]What’s Next?: Unconventional Wisdom on the Future of the World Economy[/amazon_image]

Looking this morning at the chapter The Diminishing Returns of the Information Age by Mark Roeder, his two main points remain just as relevant. One is to underline the paradox that at a time when there was more information than ever about the financial markets, people in general failed to notice the huge phenomenon of the developing crisis – the signals were there and nobody paid attention. This attention deficit is something Paul Seabright has also explored.

A related point is the way certain themes or stories develop online and stick in the collective mind even if untrue. Roeder gives the example of people in the US continuing to buy unaffordable homes on sub-prime deals even after it had become very clear in 2007 that the narrative of ever-rising property prices was untrue. He links this power of certain narratives to the ‘online oligarchy’ of large news providers, increasingly keen on sensationalizing stories to grab attention, in the battle for advertising. But it is surely even more the case on social media. This is part of the tussle about ‘the right to be forgotten’ debate: falsehoods as well as truths last forever online.

Roeder ends pessimistically: “Never before have we had access to so much information, yet so little understanding of how to manage it.” Three years on, we don’t seem to have progressed any further in working out how to have understanding catch up.

As a brighter footnote, I have also read the lovely poems [amazon_link id=”1594204780″ target=”_blank” ]Dog Songs[/amazon_link] by Mary Oliver, an early Christmas gift from a friend. Here are a few lines from a poem about watching TV with her dog Ricky:

‘I’m getting a headache looking at this.

I have to bark.’ And he began.

It does no good to bark at the television

I said. I’ve tried it too. So he stopped.

[amazon_image id=”1594204780″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Dog Songs: Thirty-Five Dog Songs and One Essay[/amazon_image]

Diminishing returns to barking at the TV too?