Even Cheaper Talk

I’m quite intrigued by cheap talk, probably because it constitutes about 90 per cent of my conversations. Cheap talk models would probably be better understood if course instructors use more frequently occurring examples from the students’ lives. Consider the example of asking an instructor what the syllabus for an exam is. He has (or will) set the paper himself and he knows whether or not a student should read a certain paper with a probability of 100 percent. However, there are conflicting interests at work. The instructor wants the student to read and learn as much as possible and uses the exam as an incentive mechanism to achieve his end. He may also want to ask a student to read all the papers in a reading list because he wants to keep his options open (in the event that he is yet to draft the question paper). So when a student asks an instructor whether a paper that was not covered in class but was referred to in some lecture or is available in the reading list is important for the exam, the standard answer is, “You can read through it”: the babbling equilibrium. Just as the theory predicts, this isn’t reason enough for many students to understand that there’s no point in playing the game at all.

Economics students would probably be a lot smarter if they weren't so rational. 

Disappointing Sundays and Manic Mondays

I had big plans for Sunday. No, really. I planned to clean my room, finish a book, watch three movies, go shopping, start jogging and have a fit of inspiration that would solve all the policy issues plaguing the country, and if possible, the world. I needed to prove to myself that I do a better job with everything when I'm goofing off so I set very high targets for having fun, far more unrealistic than any of the exam deadlines I've set for myself. 

As the title of this post suggests, I fell short. It's not that I under-performed on all counts. I didn't perform at all. I spent nearly the entire day sleeping. When I wasn't sleeping, I was eating. Even stray dogs have more productive days than that. At least they get into a fight and chase a car or two. 

Monday morning, understandably, felt like a new era because I seemed to have no sense of time when I woke up. It wasn't a very nice era. I spent much of the morning searching for things and abandoning the effort when I realised that I no longer remembered what I was looking for. I was late for work. I'm not too sure of what I did all day but I did feel awfully sleepy. And I felt like an overall underachiever. 

But I've always been the optimistic sort. I'll do all that I planned to and more. I've made a list of things I'm going to do next Sunday. 

I get by with a little help...

It's nice to write after a long time, mostly because I'm assuming that I'm at that ideal place where I'm not overly concerned with language but haven't lost the will to write altogether. In a single week I have acquired many years of wisdom that I’m eager to share.

I moved to a new city. My "hometown” and I must call it that after the many years of stereotyping. It wouldn't be fair to all the people who stereotyped me otherwise. The people here aren't quite as colourful as the characters one encounters in my other hometown. But it's always a pleasure to have more to crib about. 

I have officially lost my never-been-employed status and have become a non-parasitic human being, which is very upsetting. I've already understood the need for corporate guidelines for reports and other "corporate communication". It's because they use a lot of words that are not real words. So they constantly try to standardise it so that it doesn't become patently obvious that they're making it up as they go along. 

I’ve also stopped liking pictures accompanying the text. As a child, I loved books with pictures in them because it takes less mental engagement than reading does, so it was a bit like being able to take a break between reads without having to put the book down. The “corporate world” manipulates this subconscious preference for pictures by throwing in figures and exhibits all over the reports, which are often more tedious to go through than the actual text. And they're not even pretty. 

Other problems include being unable to let go of the 011 prefix and dialling wrong numbers all the time. However, I did fulfil some childhood aspirations by getting to open my office shutters – I don't know why I've always wanted to do that, but this must be what they call "living the dream". 

I have finally understood the point of “casual Saturdays”. I didn’t think it would really make a difference considering the fact that I insist on calling my flip flops ‘formal footwear’ and wearing them to work every day. But even if you’re upset about your Saturday mornings being spent deciding whether or not something looks “too casual” or “too formal”, a pair of jeans can solve half your problems in life. The world is beautiful again when you’re reminded that it’s possible for you to be so comfortable and look presentable at the same time.