The Coming Crisis: Fingers of Instability

This letter is a little different. I am indeed working on my book about what I believe is a coming crisis by reviewing five different cycle theories. They all arrive at a similar scenario from different points of view, but they all suggest a crisis occurring sometime around the end of this decade or perhaps shortly thereafter. And all for different reasons. One background element ties them together, which is the subject of today’s letter.

This is essentially a shortened first chapter. To long time readers, that background connection is our old friend: sandpiles and fingers of instability. but with a lot of edits and additions. Jumping in…

Ubiquity, Complexity Theory, and Sandpiles

With five different views about the coming crisis, which one is right? Do they conflict or reinforce each other? The correct answer is they’re all connected, but not in obvious ways. And in the end, it makes no difference which one is “more” right. The results will be the same. Understanding this below-the-radar connection is key to making sure you, your family, community and country all get through this to what will be the inevitable positive conclusion, even if it is a very bumpy ride.

We are going to start our exploration with excerpts from an important book by Mark Buchanan, called Ubiquity: Why Catastrophes Happen. I HIGHLY recommend it to those of you who, like me, are trying to understand the complexity of the markets, economy and politics/society. The book is about chaos theory, complexity theory and critical states. It is written in layman’s terms. There are no equations, just easy-to-grasp, well-written stories and analogies. But it gives us an essential framework to understand the coming storms.

As kids, we all had the fun of going to the beach and playing in the sand. Remember taking your plastic buckets and making sand piles? Slowly pouring the sand into an ever-bigger pile, until one side of the pile started an avalanche?

Imagine, Buchanan says, dropping one grain of sand after another onto a table. A pile soon develops. Eventually, just one grain starts an avalanche. Usually it’s a small one, but sometimes it builds on itself and seems like a side of the pile collapses. Why?

Well, in 1987 three physicists named Per Bak, Chao Tang, and Kurt Weisenfeld began to play the sandpile game in their lab at Brookhaven National Laboratory in New York. Now, piling one grain of sand at a time is a slow process, so they wrote a computer program to do it. Not as much fun, but a whole lot faster. Not that they really cared about sandpiles. They were interested in what are called nonequilibrium systems.

They learned some interesting things. What is the typical size of an avalanche? After a huge number of tests with millions of grains of sand, they found there is no typical size. "Some involved a single grain; others, ten, a hundred or a thousand. Still others were pile-wide cataclysms involving millions that brought nearly the whole mountain down. At any time, literally anything, it seemed, might be just about to occur." The piles were chaotic in their unpredictability.

Now, let’s read this next paragraph from Buchanan slowly. It is important, as it creates a mental image that may help us understand the organization of financial markets, the world economy and society (emphasis mine).

"To find out why (such unpredictability) should show up in their sandpile game, Bak and colleagues next played a trick with their computer. Imagine peering down on the pile from above, and coloring it in according to its steepness. Where it is relatively flat and stable, color it green; where steep and, in avalanche terms, ‘ready to go,’ color it red. What do you see? They found that at the outset the pile looked mostly green, but that, as the pile grew, the green became infiltrated with ever more red. With more grains, the scattering of red danger spots grew until a dense skeleton of instability ran through the pile. Here then was a clue to its peculiar behavior: a grain falling on a red spot can, by domino-like action, cause sliding at other nearby red spots. If the red network was sparse, and all trouble spots were well isolated one from the other, then a single grain could have only limited repercussions. But when the red spots come to riddle the pile, the consequences of the next grain become fiendishly unpredictable. It might trigger only a few tumblings, or it might instead set off a cataclysmic chain reaction involving millions. The sandpile seemed to have configured itself into a hypersensitive and peculiarly unstable condition in which the next falling grain could trigger a response of any size whatsoever."