Economyths

Author: David Orrell | 320 Pages | Genre: Non-Fiction | Publisher: Icon Books | Year: 2012 | My Rating: 8/10

Every profession and subject has its myths, like medicine once believed illness was caused by imbalances of bodily humours! Astronomy once believed that Earth sat at the centre of the universe. Economics, despite its mathematical sophistication and Nobel Prizes, is no exception. David Orrell’s Economyths examine some of the stories modern economics tells us and ask whether they still deserve our trust.

What makes this book particularly engaging is that Orrell, a Canadian mathematician, is not writing as an economist defending one school of thought against another. Orrell approaches economics with the curiosity of an outsider and the scepticism of a scientist. He argues that many of the assumptions that underpin mainstream economic thinking are treated as objective truths when they are, in fact, useful stories, simplifications, and sometimes outright myths.

The book systematically dismantles ten such myths. Markets are not always efficient, people are not perfectly rational, money is not neutral, growth is not synonymous with wellbeing, and risk is not always measurable. These ideas may sound obvious after the financial crisis of 2008-09, market bubbles, and widening inequalities of recent decades, but Orrell demonstrates how they are deeply embedded in economic models, policy discussions, and public discussions.

One of the most refreshing aspects of the book is its insistence that economics is not a physics problem. Human societies are messy, emotional, political, and adaptive. Unlike atoms, people change their behaviour when circumstances change. They are influenced by culture, fear, aspiration, power, and relationships. Any attempt to reduce economic life to neat equations inevitably leaves something important out.

As someone working in the social development sector, I found myself reflecting on how often development conversations are shaped by economic assumptions that go unquestioned. We celebrate GDP growth while overlooking ecological degradation. We measure income while ignoring dignity, and optimise for efficiency while neglecting resilience. The book reminded me that the indicators we choose are never neutral, as they shape what we value and what we overlook.

The book encourages intellectual humility and reminds us that economic models are maps, not territories. Useful maps matter, but problems arise when we mistake them for reality itself. Reading Economyths also felt surprisingly relevant beyond economics. In many ways, the book is about the dangers of oversimplification. Whether in public policy, business strategy, or personal life, we often gravitate towards elegant frameworks because complexity is uncomfortable. Reality rarely conforms to tidy narratives, as the world is interconnected, dynamic, and often unpredictable.

The book questions whether economics is ultimately about how societies organise resources to support human development, and then what exactly are we optimising for? Wealth? Growth? Efficiency? Security? Sustainability? Happiness? The answer matters because different goals produce different systems and different outcomes.

More than a critique of economic theory, Economyths is a reminder that every model reflects a set of values. The challenge is not to abandon economics but to recognise its limits, question its assumptions, and remain open to perspectives that better capture the complexity of human life. I finished the book with greater scepticism toward economic certainties but also with greater appreciation for the importance of asking better questions. In a world increasingly driven by metrics, forecasts, and optimisation, that may be one of the most valuable lessons of all. Economyths is a thoughtful and provocative read for anyone interested in economics, public policy, development, business, or simply understanding the assumptions that quietly shape modern society.

Why can’t you have it all

We grew up on a promise that if we worked hard enough, planned carefully, and optimised intelligently, we could have it all. Modern culture reinforces this belief on a daily basis that we can have a successful career, a loving family, financial security, good health, lasting friendships, purpose, and inner peace. Social media displays curated snapshots of people who appear to be excelling simultaneously in every domain of life. We have been hearing since our childhoods that balance is achievable with the right morning routine of ‘early to bed, early to rise, makes a person healthy, wealthy and wise’. Yet beneath this narrative lies a simple truth that you can’t have it all, at least not all at once, not at full intensity, and certainly not without significant trade-offs. The reason is not a lack of ambition or discipline, but scarcity, which is the most fundamental principle governing both economics and human life.

Scarcity is often associated with money, but today, the scarcest resources are time, energy, and attention. Every human being, regardless of wealth or status, receives the same twenty-four hours each day, making time the most democratic of all constraints. No one can accumulate unused hours or borrow from the future without cost. We speak casually about ‘managing time,’ yet time itself cannot be managed as it flows at a constant pace. Every hour invested in one activity is an hour unavailable for another, managing only the choices between time availability. The professional who chooses to work late trades time that could have been spent with family. The parent who prioritises caring for children may delay career advancement. The entrepreneur who pours weekends into building a venture sacrifices leisure and rest. These trade-offs are often invisible in the moment, but they accumulate quietly over the years. Life does not unfold in parallel tracks where everything progresses simultaneously. It unfolds sequentially, through seasons that demand different commitments.

If time is the vehicle of life, energy is its fuel. Two individuals may possess identical schedules yet operate at dramatically different capacities. Energy fluctuates with sleep, nutrition, stress, age, emotional well-being, and sense of purpose. Modern ambition frequently assumes that energy can be summoned indefinitely through willpower, caffeine/nicotine, or motivation. But biology imposes limits, cognitive fatigue reduces clarity and creativity, and emotional exhaustion diminishes patience and empathy, while physical depletion erodes resilience. Burnout is not a failure of time management but is the inevitable consequence of sustained energy misallocation. Many high achievers discover that even when their calendars appear optimised, their internal reserves are depleted. They attempt to excel in multiple demanding roles of being a professional, parent, partner, and friend simultaneously without acknowledging that each role draws from the same finite energy pool. Over time, the system protests, sleep suffers, health declines, and relationships strain. The pursuit of ‘having it all’ quietly converts into chronic exhaustion.

Perhaps more than time or energy, attention defines scarcity. In the digital age, attention has become a commodity aggressively competed for by corporations and platforms. Notifications, news feeds, emails, and endless streams of content fragment focus into micro-intervals, with us being connected to everything and fully present in almost nothing. Attention determines lived experience; whatever captures our focus becomes our reality. When attention is scattered across dozens of stimuli each hour, depth disappears, and conversations become half-engaged exchanges. Work becomes interrupted bursts of activity, and leisure becomes simultaneous scrolling. Creativity, which requires uninterrupted thought, struggles to emerge in fragmented environments. Intimacy, which depends on sustained presence, weakens under constant distraction. The desire to ‘have it all’ often leads to diluted attention spread thinly across many domains, leaving none fully nourished.

Technology reinforces the thinking that multitasking is efficient, but cognitive science consistently demonstrates the cost of task switching. Each shift of focus consumes mental energy and reduces performance quality. We may believe we are building a career, nurturing relationships, maintaining fitness, staying informed, and cultivating a side project all at once. We may be engaging partially in each, achieving adequacy but rarely excellence. To choose one path intensely is to decline others, at least temporarily, as excellence is exclusive by nature and rewards those willing to concentrate rather than diversify endlessly.

The pressure to ‘have it all’ is further amplified by comparison, especially as digital platforms present curated narratives where achievements are showcased without context. We compare our daily struggles to others’ peak moments and conclude that we are falling behind. Yet every visible success rests upon invisible trade-offs. The CxO with rapid career progression may have sacrificed personal time. The entrepreneur enjoying autonomy may endure financial uncertainty. The individual projecting calm online may be filled with anxiety privately. Role overload has become a defining feature of modern adulthood. We inflate our identities, attempting to be accomplished professionals, devoted family members, socially conscious citizens, physically fit individuals, and culturally relevant participants all at once. Without conscious prioritisation, this multiplicity breeds internal conflict.

Trade-offs are not signs of failure but are expressions of values. Every yes carries an implicit no. When we resist acknowledging trade-offs, we drift into reactive living, responding to emails, obligations, and external demands rather than intentional priorities. Economics teaches that scarce resources must be allocated toward what yields the highest perceived value. The same principle applies to life, and time, energy, and attention must be directed consciously. Without deliberate allocation, they will be consumed by urgency rather than importance. The question shifts from ‘Can I have it all?’ to ‘What is worth the cost?’ Clarity transforms scarcity from limitation into guidance.

Fragmentation carries hidden consequences as shallow engagement reduces satisfaction. When attention is dispersed continuously, creativity declines and emotional presence weakens. We may touch many aspects of life but rarely hold any deeply. The paradox of modern abundance is experiential thinness. Surrounded by options, we struggle to experience fullness. Having everything available does not equate to inhabiting it meaningfully.

Perhaps the problem lies in our definition of ‘having it all.’ If it means maximising every measurable domain simultaneously, which is unattainable. But if it means living in alignment with consciously chosen priorities, it becomes possible. Fulfilment may not require expansion in all directions, but it does require coherence. When time, energy, and attention align with core values, life feels integrated even if certain ambitions are deferred. We may not achieve extreme wealth, recognition, and perfect physical condition simultaneously, yet we may experience deep contentment through purposeful work, loving relationships, and sustainable health practices.

Designing a life within scarcity requires discipline and ruthless prioritisation to clarify which domains deserve peak focus. Protecting energy through sleep, movement, and boundaries preserves capacity. Practising attention hygiene, limiting digital intrusion and creating focused blocks enhances depth. Strategic neglect acknowledges that some areas will temporarily receive minimal investment without inducing guilt. Redefining success as alignment rather than accumulation reduces external pressure. These practices do not eliminate scarcity, but teaches us to navigate it wisely.

There is liberation in accepting limits, where comparison loses some of its sting when we acknowledge that no human can optimise every dimension simultaneously. Even the most accomplished individuals operate within constraints. Everyone trades something. The artist may trade financial stability for creative freedom. The corporate leader may trade time for influence. The activist may trade comfort for impact. The parent may trade professional acceleration for presence. No path is without a cost, and recognising this universal truth fosters humility and self-compassion.

Ultimately, the longing to ‘have it all’ often masks deeper desires for security, significance, love, belonging, or meaning. When these needs are identified clearly, excess pursuits lose their urgency. One may discover that respect matters more than status, intimacy more than visibility, and contribution more than accumulation. You cannot maximise career, family, health, wealth, friendships, and personal growth simultaneously at peak intensity. Human existence is bounded by time, powered by finite energy, and shaped by limited attention. Yet within those boundaries lies possibility. You may not have everything, but you can choose what receives your best. In a culture obsessed with expansion, the rare act is deliberately selecting what truly matters and committing to it fully. You cannot have it all, but you can have enough, deeply experienced and consciously chosen. And in the arithmetic of a scarce world, that may be the closest approximation of abundance available to us.

Zero

zeroZERO: The Biography of a Dangerous Idea

by Charles Seife | 248 Pages | Genre: Mathematics/Science | Publisher: Penguin Books| Year: 2000 | My Rating: 10/10

“The Babylonians invented it, the Greeks banned it, the Hindus worshipped it, and the Church used it to fend off heretics. Today, zero lies at the heart of one of the biggest scientific controversies of all time, the quest for the theory of everything. Used unwisely, Zero has the power to destroy logic.”

Charles Seife has presented the complexity of esoteric math and philosophy for popular readership without taking the beauty of numbers throughout his book, Zero. The books starts with the prehistory of numerals, before the number system was discovered. It was only with the advent of numerical notation and arithmetic that zero as a discrete concept became necessary, first as a simple place holder in the Babylonian number system, and later, with the Greeks, as an important astronomical tool even though they didn’t like zero at all.

It was India that first domesticated zero, through the Hindu familiarity with the concepts of infinity and the void. Rigveda states, ‘There was neither non-existence nor existence then; there was neither the realm of space nor the skywhich is beyond. What stirred? Where?’ Zero is between the void and the absolute.

This elegant and enlightening book about the strangest number in the universe is my ‘Read of the Week’. This book is among my most favourites forever.

The Art of the Infinite

books“We commonly think of ourselves as little and lost in the infinite stretches of time and space, so that it comes as a shock when the French poet Baudelaire speaks of ‘cradling our infinite on the finite seas’. Really? Is it ourself, our mind or spirit, that is infinity’s proper home? Or might the infinite be neither out there nor in here but only in language, a pretty conceit of poetry?”   – Robert Kaplan & Ellen Kaplan, The Art of the Infinite: Our Lost Language of Numbers

The Kaplans have brought out the beauty of math through an engaging mix of history, philosophy, science and lyrical prose, equations, geometric projections, exposition and explanation of a unique range of topics from Alcibiades  to Godel to Gauss.

Being a lover of numbers, this delightful book ‘The art of the infinite’ is my ‘Read of the Week’.