What Have They Done?

It's a familiar scene in B-grade movies. A scientist, fuelled by ambition and besotted with his own genius, creates a terrifying new creature. The creature spins out of control and ravages through the world, destroying lives everywhere. Eventually humanity is saved from extinction but only after staggering devastation has been caused. The message is clear: do not be too arrogant in your knowledge, humans, lest you unleash a force that will bring you to ruin.

We watch these movies in wry amusement at their melodrama. And we're silently relieved that the deep fears that these movies play up to have so far proven unfounded.

Or have they?

Substitute "financial whiz-kid" for scientist, and replace "terrifying new creature" with "sub prime derivatives" and suddenly the story sounds uncomfortably familiar.

No loss of life has yet been blamed on the current situation in the world's financial markets. The only deaths reported until now have been those of corporations. The human impact so far has been limited (such an inappropriate word!) to loss of income and depletion of savings. That's bad to begin with, but it will probably get worse.

A loss of income always hits hardest on the poor, who have little saved up against hard times. They're the ones who will be forced to compromise on nutrition and health care. They're also the ones who will be hurt the most when governmental and non-governmental funding for health care programs comes under pressure. We'll probably never be able to say exactly how it happened, but I have the sad conviction that many lives will be hurt and some will be cut short by the financial shrapnel that will fly around the world over the next few years.

Somehow the media seem to have lost sight of this completely. Instead they've given in to the basest instinct for revenge. You can almost hear the shrill voices in newsrooms everywhere as journalists try to find the best way to sensationalize the news of bonus payments to AIG employees. Yes, there is something obscene about these payments, but will it really matter whether or not those bonuses get paid? The damage that's been done to the world's economy will not be undone. The genie is out of the bottle now, and we can do little more than watch grimly as governments and regulators struggle to undo the damage they failed to prevent.

No amount of punitive legislation will reverse the effects of the collapsing markets on the people who will be hit hardest and are also the most defenseless. I wonder if we will learn the really important lessons from this episode. There are multiple instances of economic crises that were triggered by investment bubbles in new markets and by "innovations" in financial markets. And yet governments seem to do precious little to ensure that these innovations are safe before they allow their widespread use. It seems to me that it's harder to get regulatory approval to sell a new toothpaste than it is to get permission to sell a new financial instrument.

I think it's time that governments started to take the sort of "safety first" attitude to regulating financial markets that they bring to health care products. Because if a financial product turns out to be toxic, the side effects can be deadly.

Maybe we'll get lucky, maybe this time the men and women in power will make decisions that in the future will protect us better . Time will tell. For now, we'll just have to struggle through the scary movie that we've found ourselves in.

Is It Here Yet?

It seems too good to be true. I've been standing outdoors in my shirt-sleeves for five minutes and I have no symptoms of hypothermia. Could it be that spring is finally here?

As if on cue, a pair of girls in jogging gear go past. Of course the sight of a jogger doesn't prove that it's warm outdoors. I've seen people out running in weather that I wouldn't bother to drive in. But the girls that I see in front of me right now look like casual exercisers, not the beady-eyed obsessives who run through blizzards and guzzle protein shakes.

I've seen enough. I must pull on my own running shoes and test the air.

And by golly, it is warm today! A couple of kids have set up a stall in their front lawn and under the watchful eyes of their parents they offer me a refreshing drink for 50 cents. Inflation has come a long way since I was their age; I can remember looking at comic book versions of this same scene where a glass of lemonade would set you back only 5 cents. In any case, it's too soon to stop so I politely decline their offer. And silently I wish them luck in this entrepreneurial venture. (Should I tell them that they could probably sell an organic version of their drink for a dollar?)

The neighbourhood is suddenly swarming with children on bicycles. They've been hibernating for the past six months and now the rising temperature has made them stir and step out squinting into the sunlight. They don't squint for long. With a whoop and shouted encouragements to each other they pedal jauntily away in a loud and harmless pack.

It's good to hear my feet softly pound on the ground again. It's good to work up a sweat with the sun on my back. It's good to huff and puff my way home and hungrily quaff a big glass of cold milk.

An hour later I'm in Harvard Square. A band plays blues in the background as I stretch out on the grass and catch up with a couple of friends. We're warm-blooded creatures, the three of us, and we tell each other excitedly how glad we are for this lovely day. We let the sunlight seep into us as we sip coffee. We exchange notes on what we've been up to over the past few months. My jacket lies next to me, unneeded.

But then dusk falls to remind us that we're still in New England and it's still only March. Our chatter slows as we stiffly pull ourselves to our feet, realizing that for some time now a chill had been soaking up through the ground we were sitting on.

No matter. We walk together a little distance, enjoying each other's company for just a bit longer. Spring is in our steps, whether or not it is in the air.

There's One In Every Meeting

"That's terrific!!" is not an appropriate thing to say in all situations. It's a perfectly acceptable response to "I'm happy", or "I like tortillas"; but it sounds all wrong as a reply to "We're in a pile of trouble and we don't know how to get out."

You'd think that this would be obvious to any adult. And yet it's a law of human nature that in any business meeting involving eleven or more people, there will be one person who sets everyone else's teeth on edge with just this sort of bloody-minded cheerfulness.

Let me be clear, I like happy people and I like being surrounded by them. If I'm going to work with someone day in and day out then I want them to think positively. But you don't have to prove that you have a positive attitude by talking as if you've been breathing helium.

What follows is a reconstruction based on a true event. The true event was a 3-hour meeting involving me, a Senior Manager (SM), a More Senior Manager (MSM), a hysterically cheerful person whom I shall name Buttercup, and several others who did nothing interesting (SOWDNI).

SM: ...and that's our plan for the short term and the long term.
MSM: You guys have a problem that needs fixing in the next few days.
Buttercup: That's terrific!!
SM gives Buttercup a flat look and turns back to MSM: We appreciate that and we will get back to you with a solution soon.
MSM: You have to; if you don't fix the short term, there will be no long term.
SOWDNI nod at each other intelligently
SM, me and SOWDNI, all in chorus: We understand that, O More Senior Manager. We will work on this urgently and diligently.
Buttercup: That's terrific!!
It is now my turn to give Buttercup a flat look. I wonder whether she's on crack or merely deranged.

SM (trying to pretend that Buttercup does not exist): We'll have an update for you next week.
Buttercup (overcoming SM's attempt to pretend Buttercup is invisible and inaudible): This is so exciting!!
SM and MSM look at each other and nod. MSM pulls a lever and Buttercup falls through a trap door and into a nest of hungry crocodiles. As they close in, Buttercup looks up through the trapdoor at us with an ecstatic smile and yells in a high-pitched voice: Isn't this totally exciting?
The trap door closes over the sounds of crocodiles chewing.
Me: Now that's terrific!!

Author's note: no crocodiles were harmed in the making of this story.

Memories, Lessons And Friends

A few nights ago I was on a flight out from Mumbai to the US. As I tried to sleep, my mind drifted back to a day years ago when I had set out to live in Mumbai. I had two suitcases stuffed with clothes and books, and a motorcycle. With these in my possession, I got onto a train in Delhi and set out on a 16-hour journey to a new life.

When I left Mumbai some years later I had rather more by way of worldly possessions. But despite appearances, the most substantial things that I took away with me when I left that city were not the couple of dozen boxes that got loaded on an eastward bound freighter.

I took with me lessons learned over four years of building a new life in a new city. It does not matter what those lessons were. What matters is that they were the unique, non-replicable product of the experiences that I had in my time in Mumbai. I have vivid memories of those formative experiences. And even though I did not know it then, I can look back now and see how they connected to make me the person that I am.

The thing that amazes me about memory is that it records more than just facts and events. Think back to events in your life that you know to be significant. Chances are that you remember who was there, and what they did and just how it felt. Just thinking about those instances, mentally placing yourself back there, you can sometimes feel the exact same feelings that you did then. Memory is a time machine that each of us carries around in our heads.

I traveled in my time machine that night, cocooned in the dark of an airline cabin. I flickered through memories of “the night where we ….”, and “that crazy time when…” and even “that thing we did not think we would ever get through but we did.” And it struck me that many of those memories centered not on me, but on other people. There were a few people who showed up very often in those memories from Mumbai. They were the friends I made there.

And that’s what I really carried with me when I left Mumbai: memories, lessons and friends.

Since then there have been a few more instances where I moved to a new place to start a new life, and it’s always been the same. With each move my shipment became bigger. And with each move the biggest thing I carried with me was still memories, lessons and friends.

Some of the lessons have been unlearned and some of the friends have faded away. I guess it’s only the deepest truths and the most instinctive bonds that can withstand the twin tests of time and circumstance.

As I write this, my thoughts turn to you, my friend, and the journey that you are about to begin. You’re going to start a new life armed with some boxes, some lessons, some memories and some friendships. I hope your boxes arrive safely. I hope you find that the lessons were worth learning. I hope your memories stay fresh, and become a source of strength. And I hope our friendship is one of those that will pass the tests of time and circumstance.