What would Lydia Do?

 

 

Swirling economists and pundits heading for the hole in the bowl of their theories search frantically for meaning in the economic mess they failed to predict, but Lydia could save them a lot of trouble.

 

She’s busy, of course – the schedule of a modern four-year-old girl makes that of most senior executives look like a slacker’s journal. As her grandfather, I may have some clout with the Oracle of Oak Park, Ill. So if the puzzled chattering class asks me nicely, I may seek wisdom on their behalf.

 

And just to prove the goods, here’s a freebie from a visit last week. Asked what her Daddy, my son, did at work, Lydia patiently explained that he “works on the computer, talks on the phone and shakes peoples’ hands.”

 

My son is a marketing executive at a major Chicago firm, and his job description is no doubt lots more sophisticated, just as the economists’ theories of what got us into the current mess are much more sophisticated.

 

But that doesn’t mean Lydia isn’t square on the mark. Like many four year olds, she’s a dispassionate, clear observer of what she sees and a spin-free reporter. She doesn’t see “senior citizens” or “golden agers,” she sees old people. Or fat people. Or, if she were looking at those who either ran or advised the world’s major economies for the last decade, dumb people.

 

They would be dumb people because they usually don’t see what they’re looking at and seldom say what they see when they do.

 

Suppose Lydia were asked to look at how people made money.

 

Lydia would see people who make, sell, or do things other people will buy -- people who work.

 

She wouldn’t even notice the many folk who are handsomely paid to talk about those who work, and paid even more when they predict how they will talk tomorrow based upon how they talked today. Nor would she notice all those placing bets on the accuracy of the predictions. Told that these were the traders and analysts of a “market,” she would be disappointed to learn that none of them could actually sell her an apple or a candy bar.

 

Some market.

 

And because she is four years old, Lydia wouldn’t understand how a house could become much more valuable next week than it was this week, even though the house and the neighborhood around it hadn’t changed a bit. If someone attempted an explanation she’d say “You’re being silly!”

 

She would be right.

 

Blame the folks who’ve been running things, and blame the rest of us for letting them get away with it, but we have all been very, very silly. And now we’re in a Time Out and will have to stay there until we figure out how to reconnect value and reality.

 

Those who need hints can ask themselves “What would Lydia do?”

 

 

 

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