Predicting the Future

Life is full of predictions about the future. In fact, whole industries exist to make these predictions and sell them to people. Being able to predict things accurately carries with it a tremendous amount of prestige and influence, so it’s no wonder so many people pursue this. But predicting the future largely isn’t possible: nobody has a crystal ball telling them the absolute truth about the days ahead.

But there is an interesting twist to this. Predictions of the future come in two varieties: soft predictions, and hard predictions. Soft predictions are the more reasonable we make, and they are based on past experience, deduction, and simple logic, whereas hard predictions often exist in a void, or at least are surrounded by so many competing and/or contributing parameters as to be essentially impossible to prove in any reasonable way. Yet we still try.

A soft prediction might be that if you touch the stove burner when it’s hot, you’re going to burn yourself. This could be known from past experience or the deductive knowledge of how high heat affects human skin. But it could also be broader, and reach into the realm of statistics. If you drive 60 miles per hour in a residential area, you likely won’t be able to stop in time to avoid hitting somebody if they suddenly walk out in front of your car. This is why speed limits in residential areas are low. Some laws and policies exist based on very reasonable predictions that utilize this type of information.

Hard predictions are usually spoken of with a bit more credulity than they deserve. People thinking Jesus is returning during their lifetime is the one I always hear in the church, and it drives me nuts. What evidence do they have? “Bad stuff is happening”. Oh, really? Well, that solves it then! But it also comes in the form of beliefs about investments. “Houses always go up!”, “stocks always go up!”, “cryptocurrency is the future!”, etc. Technically, we don’t know if any of these things is true. We have general historical evidence for some things, no evidence for others. That doesn’t mean any one of those statements is true or false. And it’s not that black swans don’t happen, it’s simply that black swans can’t really be predicted, which is what makes them black swans.

There is also such a thing as making a good decision and experiencing a bad outcome, just as there is such a thing as making a bad decision and experiencing a good outcome. Why do the good sometimes suffer and the evil sometimes flourish? And sometimes decisions have to be made with limited knowledge. In fact, almost ALL decisions are made with limited knowledge. We say that hindsight is 20/20, because things are always more clear after the fact than before. That doesn’t mean the best discernible decision (at the time) wasn’t made.

Several months ago I started writing a post on decision philosophy, but I think the subject is beyond my ability to say anything very meaningful about. What makes a good decision? Well, that can be very difficult to know. But over the past month or so, my mind has traveled more toward investments and the uncanny confidence with which some people elevate their preferred vehicles. I’m not very interested in learning about cryptocurrencies, but I’m kind of fascinated by the religiosity with which some people ascribe to their future. I guess there is a minority of vocal investors who think, I don’t know, that crypto is supposed to replace “fiat” currency, or something like that? Perhaps it is my inner Anthropologist, curious about these modern day cargo cults, but it leads me to reflect on how people “get this way” about so many other investments, too. Somebody picks a stock and it goes up and they become extremely confident in their stock-picking abilities. “It’s the future!” And there’s no shortage of people who buy houses which go up in value, thereafter exceeded only by their egos and their confidence in houses to do this forever (2007? What 2007?). Over-adherence to any investment vehicle just feels incredibly seedy. “Hey, pal, you can’t lose this way, everything will work out!” Yeah, I bet….

Why is this? What is it that gives some people so much confidence predicting the future?

I wonder if part of the draw toward claiming to know the future is that it requires a broad knowledge in the first place. If you can connect the dots, find the pattern, etc, in a sea of information, that has the general appearance of high intelligence. Systems Theory informs us that not all correlations are discernible, which is why we tend to isolate knowledge into various subjects. The key example I’ve read is that we don’t use gravitational theory to explain drug addiction, but these two things still exist in the same universe. Could they be interconnected? Not in any way we can discern, hence why we don’t tend to discuss them in the same fields of study. The more interconnected your data, the less reliably soft predictions can be made. The less interconnected your data, the more reliably soft predictions can be made. “All other things being equal” is easier to assume in some fields than others.

This may even be why people are drawn toward conspiracies, not because no conspiracies have ever been true, but because knowing about them has the allure of power and intelligence. Ever notice how some conspiracies claim to have all of the dots connected? In real life, it is nearly impossible to see, let alone understand, all of the dots and potential dots.

I once owned a video or two from a guy who did nature survivalist training. I was interested from a curiosity and a nature perspective, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a slight thrill toward reading the occasional prepper article, though I was never one of those “prepper” guys. Anyway, this guy was very reasonable and produced some very quality information that taught me several things that continue to serve me while hiking and camping today. But of all things, I think he died from cancer about a decade ago. I’m sure he loved what he did, but it seems slightly ironic that somebody who was otherwise so prepared to survive in the wilderness or the collapse of civilization got taken out by cells in his own body. And that’s absolutely nothing against him, but it makes me think of the crazy guys who construct bunkers and are absolutely convinced, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the Ruskis are going to get us, and the answer is to build a fortress in the woods. It gives them a sense of power over the world. And it’s not that some of those fears were completely unfounded (Cuban Missile Crisis, anyone?), it was that these people’s decisions reflected a desire for control more than, say, a reasonable attempt to make good decisions in the face of something scary and threatening. I understand when people want to have a concealed carry permit, but I’m less considerate when they think that everyone who doesn’t have one is a willing sheep who is asking to be victimized (and yes, some people believe this).

Over the past year, I’ve experienced a considerable slackening of my own confidence of opinion. Not because I feel my opinions are particularly weak but because there is usually an awful lot to consider. Moreover, an opinion must have a certain weight of utility to be very meaningful to possess in the first place, but whereas many people treat their opinions as something that must be argued, I don’t know that I’ve ever really seen arguments go anywhere. I’m also not under the illusion that that I’m somehow more objective than anybody else. I like to think my opinions are fairly reasonable, that people can feel comfortable disagreeing with me, but I don’t know how accurate this is.

Opinions are often about one of two subjects: what is, or what will be. Regarding what is, well, that’s quite the undertaking, but even more so what will be. I get far more out of hearing people’s stories than I do their opinions, quite frankly, but different angles from which a subject can be viewed do a great deal to obscure what can actually be known. Predictions about the future can often become quite silly. And again, it’s not that soft predictions don’t have a certain amount of logic to them – many outcomes are quite predictable – but we can only process so many angles at the same time. I don’t believe that our opinions don’t matter, I think they do, but at the end of the day, you are either enjoying your life or you’re not, you’re either walking a good path or a bad path or, more realistically, some of both. When we attempt to predict the future, I think we really have to ask ourselves how much the deeper specifics matter. I think some people rely on strong opinions as a substitute for character, or at least as a sense of vindication in the face of life’s challenges. “I have it all figured out! I know the future! I am a strong and capable person!” (And we probably all do this at various times in life)

I don’t know. Be reasonable 🙂 I think that’s the best and most general strategy.