We All Fall Down
I've heard more than one casual mention in the past few weeks about what will happen "when America goes the way of Greece." Because we now live in an interconnected economy, thanks to technology, a major economic crisis in one country is sure to spread out across the rest of the world, impacting other countries through some kind of ripple effect. The riots of Greece will soon plague Manhattan and the streets of Madrid.
Certainly, there is an impact, but I question the severity of it. Sure, I don't see the United States having a massive, booming economy anytime in the near future. But I think the world economy is too complex a system, governed by too many random variables, for anyone to draw a large, far-reaching conclusion like that with any certainty.
Usually when someone brings this up to me, I ask them, "What's your 'Plan B'?" I tell that if they really feel we're headed for complete financial ruin, and are willing to expound on that thought in conversation, then they must have made arrangements to deal with this problem when it finally hits our economy. So far, I've only met one person who actually has a plan.
I'm all in favor of discussing what could happen, to a degree, because lots of things could happen. Life seems to take a certain glee in throwing us curve balls, and often when we least suspect them. This seems to have created a Pavlovian association in people's minds: in the absence of total stability (spoiler alert: that doesn't really exist anywhere), people seem to brace themselves for the absolute worst. (Or at least talk about it.) An awareness of what's possible is good. But treating unlikely possibilities as certainties isn't. It's wasteful, because we're all limited in what we can plan for.
If someone asks me what I think about how the situation in Greece will affect the US economy, I simply shrug and tell them, "I don't know." At least I'm honest.
Certainly, there is an impact, but I question the severity of it. Sure, I don't see the United States having a massive, booming economy anytime in the near future. But I think the world economy is too complex a system, governed by too many random variables, for anyone to draw a large, far-reaching conclusion like that with any certainty.
Usually when someone brings this up to me, I ask them, "What's your 'Plan B'?" I tell that if they really feel we're headed for complete financial ruin, and are willing to expound on that thought in conversation, then they must have made arrangements to deal with this problem when it finally hits our economy. So far, I've only met one person who actually has a plan.
I'm all in favor of discussing what could happen, to a degree, because lots of things could happen. Life seems to take a certain glee in throwing us curve balls, and often when we least suspect them. This seems to have created a Pavlovian association in people's minds: in the absence of total stability (spoiler alert: that doesn't really exist anywhere), people seem to brace themselves for the absolute worst. (Or at least talk about it.) An awareness of what's possible is good. But treating unlikely possibilities as certainties isn't. It's wasteful, because we're all limited in what we can plan for.
If someone asks me what I think about how the situation in Greece will affect the US economy, I simply shrug and tell them, "I don't know." At least I'm honest.