An economist, in the most typical sense of the word, is a failed comedian turned professor whose faith in the fun factor of his subject is nil. On paper, economists are renowned for their dry and unnecessarily convoluted writing, which is only worsened when a topic inspires them to try to be funny. In person, economists maintain supercilious attitudes to each other and to the rest of world and deservedly so – few people have the stunning courage necessary to challenge themselves with the gruelingly difficult questions in a college, high school, or graduate school introductory lecture. Economists are, with the exception of cult leaders, quite possibly the only group of people in the world that can be so consistently wrong and so stubbornly steadfast in their commitment to making public predictions. The perpetual failure to be right also contributes to the arrogance of your typical economist because blue collar slobs don’t make multiple billion dollar mistakes regularly and blue collar slobs certainly don’t get promoted for those mistakes. Nowhere in the world is an economist more worshipped than within his own circle of indistinguishable colleague economists and, still further, within his own head.
The surest way to know what won’t happen in the future is to ask an economist what he thinks will happen.
As a general rule of thumb, an economist is as certain as he is unaccountable - that is to say, always and completely.