As I was doing my daily chores whilst at home in Norway during Christmas, I started thinking about the interesting way that Norway incentivises the recycling of plastic bottles and metal cans. This includes donating to the Red Cross with a very small chance of winning up to 1,000,000 kroner.[1] Continue reading if you would like to know how on earth this is all linked – and why children’s sports teams in Norway go around collecting plastic bottles to fund

I made my final ever New Year's resolution the other week — never to talk or speak about New Year’s resolutions again. So, for the first Thank Fathom it’s Friday blog of the year, it looked like I might be in a spot of bother finding a topical subject. But then I noticed the publication date — 6 January, celebrated across the Christian world as the Feast of the Epiphany. And so I thought — what on earth is an

I recently attended my best friend’s wedding in County Sligo and, in an effort to elevate my otherwise fairly low-brow speech, included a line from WB Yeats, who adored that part of the world. Given that Yeats’ poetry is predominantly about the frustrations of unrequited love and patriotism, I had to hunt through his work to find the line that would raise glasses rather than handkerchiefs! During that search, I reread ‘September 1913’, a timeless masterpiece that still makes spines

“We have two classes of forecasters: those who don't know . . . and those who don't know they don't know.”  John Kenneth Galbraith My colleagues and I have held a series of meetings with clients over the past few weeks to present and discuss our latest assessment of the global macroeconomic and financial market outlook. Despite some positive news on growth in the third quarter, particularly in the euro area, our central message has remained largely unchanged since September:

Last week marked my fifth Fathom anniversary, a milestone that passed largely unnoticed in a very busy end of year. Over this period my Fathom inbox has accumulated 14,337 emails, of which 4185 seem to have remained unread (I do receive a lot of junk). Over the past five years, I’ve received emails from 507 different people, while I’ve sent emails to 169 separate ones. I’ve received most correspondence from our chief economist Mr B (1084 emails), followed by administrator

Think there’s a recession coming? Go out for a slap-up dinner. Buy yourself some bling. And when you’ve done that, post pictures on Insta (or your social network of choice) of yourself wearing the bling, and ordering your second bottle at dinner. Worried that your neighbours are facing hard times? Upgrade your car. Get that extension built. And what’s more, kindly talk about it: bang on about how much it’s costing, whenever you are out with your friends and neighbours.

There’s no event that brings people from around the world together quite like the World Cup. In contrast to other big international tournaments, there seems to be a tangible chance of success for all teams rather than a fight between the largest and richest. This is perhaps more evident than ever in this year’s tournament, with Saudi Arabia beating one of the favourites, Argentina, while Japan secured a win over four-time champions Germany. The event is also a chance for

A few weeks ago, UK scientists reported that they had given laboratory-grown blood to humans for the first time ever. Their clinical trial is aimed at boosting the supply of very rare blood types, and helping those suffering from blood conditions such as sickle cell anaemia. Amazing, right? But it also got me thinking about how incredibly dependent the healthcare system is on the willingness of average citizens like you and me to roll up our sleeves and donate blood

We live in difficult times, with our economies under pressure, inflation high, and ongoing wars pushing up the number of refugees. Amid all these stresses, people are losing faith in political institutions — democracy itself is under challenge from populism. My aim in this blog is to refresh our memory about why democracy is good if one sticks with it. Unpicking this hefty topic could take hours of discussion (not to mention a constant supply of beverages and snacks), the

How do you know someone has run a marathon? They will write a blog about it — twice, in my case. I made my way around Dublin last Sunday, committing the original sin of marathons of going out too fast in the first half and then ‘bonking’[1] by the end. Some, including Pheidippides, might argue that running even one marathon is the mistake. He is said to have died immediately after sprinting 26 miles to Athens to bring news of