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

The term ‘bucket list’ was popularised by a 2000s film of the same name. For those who don’t know, the term is often used to describe a list of things that you intend to complete before you ‘kick the bucket’. I don’t have a bucket list. That said, one thing I’ve always been keen to do is watch a rocket launch. Earlier this summer, I hoped to see this wish fulfilled… NASA launches most of its rockets from Cape Canaveral

Growing up in the North-West of England has given me a long-held interest in developments in the manufacturing industry. Lancashire used to be the global leader in the production of cotton in the nineteenth century, accounting for a third of global output.[1] Apparently its damp climate, was ideally suited to this as it made the cotton fibres less likely to break during spinning. Some of the old mills remain as museums, a reminder of the glory days of old. Even

‘How do we know that two and two make four? Or that the force of gravity works? Or that the past is unchangeable? If both the past and the external world exist only in the mind, and if the mind itself is controllable – what then?’ – George Orwell, 1984 How do we know that the mini-budget caused the pound to fall? Or caused gilt yields to rise? How do we know that the pension funds that were forced into

I don’t know about you, and call me a curmudgeon if you like, but I do not like paying tax. It hurts. When I look at the tax bite out of my salary, I wince. When I think about the VAT I pay out of post-tax income, I grumble. When I reflect on the corporation tax my company pays out of its profits after it has paid gross salaries and employers’ NICs, I groan. When I pay the tax on