Isn't it strange that the same people that laugh at gypsy fortune tellers take economists seriously?
In the labyrinth of irony, one might stumble upon the curious paradox of public opinion towards fortune tellers and economists

In the labyrinth of irony, one might stumble upon the curious paradox of public opinion towards fortune tellers and economists. While the former, often associated with mysticism and fraudulence, are met with ridicule, the latter, who deal in complex mathematical models and statistical probabilities, are perceived with almost reverential seriousness.
Consider the fortunes of these two professions. Gypsy fortune tellers, with their crystal balls, tarot cards, and palm-reading abilities, are typically seen as objects of amusement by the modern, rational mind. Their serious demeanor as they predict wealthy suitors, hidden treasures, or future career breakthroughs is often met with laughter and disbelief. Yet, they continue to thrive, catering to those who, despite the skepticism, seek guidance or comfort in their prophesies.
Contrast this with economists, who inhabit a sphere of abstraction, dealing in intangible concepts like GDP, inflation, and fiscal policy. Their predictions are not etched on parchment or whispered into willing ears, but circulated in dense academic papers, impenetrable to most, and chronicled byвание news outlets. Yet, their seriousness is seldom questioned. They are invited to sit at the tables of power, their opinions solicited in urgent times, and their mistakes, if any, often dismissed as inevitable in the complex dance of economies.
Why this double standard? Part of it lies in our perception of authority. Economists, like scientists, command respect due to their perceived rigor and discipline. They use complex models, publish in academic journals, and present their findings in impenetrable jargon, all of which lends them an aura of infallibility. Their advice, therefore, carries weight.
On the other hand, fortune tellers lack this academic gravitas. Their predictions, delivered in the comfort of a dimly lit tent or the intimacy of a private room, are seen as a form of entertainment, not guidance. Their lack of a standardized 'method' makes them easy targets for mockery. Yet, it is this very unpredictability, the lack of structured methodology, that draws some people to them.
But perhaps it is also the human tendency to seek control that drives this disparity. Economies, despite their complexity, offer a semblance of predictability. With the right knowledge and tools, one can attempt to navigate their ups and downs. Fortunes, however, defy this sense of control. They offer no concrete action plan, no way to 'beat the system', leading to a sense of helplessness that can evoke laughter or irritation.
Yet, both professions share a common thread. Both make predictions, often fallible, about the future. Both rely on a combination of knowledge, intuition, and a fair dose of uncertainty. Both cater to human needs - the desire for control and the comfort of prophecy. In this light, the laughter directed at fortune tellers perhaps seems less justified, and the seriousness given to economists may seem more complex than it initially appears.
So, is it strange that those who would scoff at a prediction based on the lines in one's palm will take a prediction based on complex economic models with utmost seriousness? Maybe. But stranger still is our human propensity to seek answers, wherever we may find them.