Edward Quince's Wisdom Bites: Sheep Guts

 

It’s prediction season again. Every major bank, asset manager, and independent thinker with a Substack has published their carefully calibrated year-ahead forecast. The S&P 500 will finish at precisely X. Rates will peak in QY. Inflation will behave—unless it doesn’t.

Ignore them all.

This ritual persists not because forecasting works, but because clients demand certainty and the industry is paid to supply it. As Fred Schwed observed decades ago in Where Are the Customers’ Yachts?,

“It is a habit of the financial community to ask questions to which there is no answer.”

Forecasts create the comforting illusion that someone is in control.

Why Forecasts Feel Smart (and Aren’t)

Forecasting is seductive because it masquerades as rigor. Charts, regression models, confidence intervals—all signal competence. The problem is that financial markets are not governed by tidy, stationary systems. They are shaped by politics, psychology, reflexivity, and randomness.

Statistically, many economic forecasts perform no better than a coin flip. Worse, the most confident forecasts often cluster at precisely the wrong moments—at cycle peaks and troughs—when uncertainty is highest and extrapolation feels safest.

The industry doesn’t reward humility. It rewards conviction. Saying “I don’t know” doesn’t sell well, even when it is the only honest answer.

From Prediction to Preparation

The moment you admit you cannot forecast interest rates, GDP growth, or recessions with any reliability, something liberating happens: you can stop predicting and start preparing.

Howard Marks captures this pivot perfectly:

“We may never know where we’re going, but we’d better have a good idea where we are.”

Preparation means building portfolios that can survive multiple futures—not just the one your base case prefers. It means diversification, margin of safety, liquidity, and humility. It means acknowledging that the biggest risks are usually the ones no one is modeling.

The Illusion of Precision

There is a special danger in forecasts with decimal points. Precision implies knowledge that does not exist. When someone tells you the S&P will end the year at 7,327, they are not informing you—they are performing.

The future does not care about your spreadsheet.

The Lesson

The most powerful words in finance are still: “I don’t know.”

They free you from fragile bets, heroic assumptions, and single-path thinking. They allow you to build robustness instead of castles in the air.

Admitting uncertainty is not weakness; it is the starting point of durability.

XTOD

“Listening to today’s forecasters is just as crazy as when the king hired the guy to look at the sheep guts.” — Charlie Munger