Second hand goods are now easier to find thanks to eBay
This is our first experience of recession in the internet age, and so far I don't like it one little bit. You could say that the internet makes the recession more bearable as there are all those networks to help people get jobs and there is Ebay for buying things second-hand.
Yet such things are trivial compared to what the internet is doing to our confidence. The internet has created a global psyche. The web has mentally joined us at the hip, so we can no longer put our heads in the sand. If that sounds painfully
contorted, it is because it is. Just as no country can decouple itself from the
ailing global economy, none of us as individuals can decouple ourselves from the ailing global psyche.
Through blogs, websites and e-mails the world's economic ills are fed to us on a
drip all day long. It is not just that we hear about bad things faster, we hear about more of them and in a more immediate way. My worries become yours, and yours become mine. On the internet, a trouble shared online is not a trouble halved. It is a trouble needlessly multiplied all over the world. After reading this article, people in Australia will surely start worrying about my paint colours, too.
This would not matter so much if it were not for the fact that confidence is the medicine that cures a recession; and all this sharing of bad news leaves one with no confidence at all.
Do leaves grow on trees?
If I had been alive during the last comparable recession, over 60 years ago, I would have limited my news injection to reading The Times every morning. In those days it had a front page given over not to big scary headlines, but to small
classified ads. The news inside would probably have left me a little depressed over breakfast, but I would have had the rest of the day to recover my
equanimity.
Instead, I sit over my computer all day and feed my anxiety. The day after I read about the begging woman I was sent something even more upsetting. A banker at Commerzbank e-mailed me to say that he and 499 other senior colleagues had just been summoned to the bank's headquarters and told to write their ideas on A4 pieces of paper and stick them on the plastic branches of a tree.
In good times I used to delight in stories like these. Aren't people silly, I used to think
with a complacent air of superiority. But now my thinking is different: if banks' response to the current crisis is to stick bits of paper on fake trees, then the only rational thing for the rest of us to do is to surrender ourselves to panic.