Homo Economicus to Machina Economica by Ben Sadyalunda

Let us go back to the year 1929. October 24th, to be exact.

It was 6 am.

You could feel the knots in your stomach as you lay there assessing your past decisions in the piercing morning silence. Not even the hummingbirds sang that day, as if in awe of the tense atmosphere. As you creep your eyes open you sense the presence of the shadows before you see them, looming in the darkness of dawn. Having been one of the most intuitive investors of the 1920s, you were still yet to encounter this much restlessness.

After deliberating the plan for that Thursday, in front of a black coffee, you decided to follow your gut as you had done so often in the past. It was time to cut your losses and sell everything. It never occurred to you that almost every other banker was thinking the same thing that day. As you made your way to the brokerage you noticed the electric tension in the air rise almost in accordance with the chaos around you.

The more anxious you felt the stronger the smell of thunder got. Had it been the early 2000s, the song “when it rains it pours ..” would have been more accurate. As soon as your foot made contact with the ground you felt the first droplets. Slow but heavy, clear but obscure, so insignificant, yet it felt like there was an underlying message. Had you been a weather forecaster, maybe you would have been able to determine the meaning of this.

The line stretched out of the building and onto the sidewalks. It seemed like everyone was interconnected by some invisible force beyond understanding. It was like a herd of sheep gathered in fear of the wolves that closed in slowly.

From the moment 10:00 hit all hell broke loose. Chaos. The fierce desire of people wanting to get to the front of the line as fast as possible to minimise the dam