What is risk other than worrying about something that we cannot predict?
While I am not going to grace Peter Cochrane over on silicon.com (via Mulley) with a link to his simply daft Daily Mail-like exposition of how risk management has become an industry like all others, you know, anti-poverty, equality and anti-racism, can I just note in response to Mr Cochrane that in Ireland the majority of private pensions from now on are going to be of a defined contribution type, thereby placing all of the risk of the marketplace on to the individual pension holder. My own scheme has just completed this switch. Not happy with that but instead of bitching and moaning about how kids are not allowed to play conkers in the school yard anymore, you might want to turn your analysis of risk management on to something a little more self-reflexive.
I am not one for risk myself. Preferred Battleship personally. Seriously though, I have come to know this lately through analysis of my own behaviour. I think that I would rather not take a risk because it means making myself more vulnerable, more open to having to take responsibility. I do not want to take responsibility because it means telling people what I think so I do not take the risk and around and around it goes. I would rather not tell people what I think because that means committing to something that I have little or no control over. And because I still believe that I can control almost anything (that allows more deflection away from responsibility for my own decisions), I get angry when it doesn’t work out exactly as I thought it would.
A friend asks me if I want to go out and meet him for a few drinks in the city. I do not want to say no even though I am not really in the mood. So I say yes to him (because I do not want to disappoint him) and meet up. Sitting there with my drink, I hate everything about the situation I ‘find myself in’ (thereby not claiming any responsibility for my actions). The bar is too loud, the music is crap, why is she here as well? The beer begins to taste badly. An anger builds up inside me that could potentially end this situation, the anger that comes from not expressing four hours ago what I actually wanted to do myself. The anger is now directed at the people who are out with me. Shoulders are shrugged and conversation is slack. Where did all of this come from at all?