have seen this side of Kazakhstan.
One final comment on the style. I elected to keep the style of this book as idiosyncratic as it was in the first edition.
Homo sum,
good and bad. I am fallible and see no reason to hide my minor flaws if they are part of my personality no more than I feel the need to wear a wig when I have my picture taken or borrow someone else’s nose when I show my face. Almost all the book editors who read the draft recommended changes at the sentence level (to make my style “better”) and in the structure of the text (in the organization of chapters); I ignored almost all of them and found out that none of the readers thought them necessary—as a matter of fact, I find that injecting the personality of the author (imperfections included) enlivens the text. Does the book industry suffer from the classical “expert problem” with the buildup of rules of thumb that do not have empirical validity? More than half a million readers later I am discovering that books are not written for book editors.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FOR THE UPDATED SECOND EDITION
Out of the Library
T he book helped me break out of my intellectual isolation (not being a full-time academic offers plenty of benefits, such as independence and the avoidance of the dull parts of the process, but it comes at the cost of seclusion). I made many interesting dinner companions and pen pals among lucid thinkers through the first edition, and, thanks to them, I was able to make a second pass on some of the topics. In addition, I have gotten closer to my dream life thanks to the stimulation of discussion with people who share my interests; I feel that I need to pay the book back for that. There seems to be some evidence that conversations and correspondence with intelligent people is a better engine for personal edification than plain library-ratting (human warmth: Something in our nature may help us grow ideas while dealing and socializing with other people). Somehow there was the
pre-
and
post-Fooled
life. While the acknowledgments for the first edition hold more than ever, I would like to add here my newly incurred debt.
Shrinking the World
I first met Robert Shiller in person as we were seated next to each other at a breakfast panel discussion. I found myself inadvertently eating all the fruits on his plate and drinking his coffee and water, leaving him with the muffins and other unfashionable food (and nothing to drink). He did not complain (he may have not noticed). I did not know Shiller when I featured him in the first edition and was surprised by his accessibility, his humility, and his charm (by some heuristic one does not expect people who have vision to be also personable). He later drove me to a bookstore in New Haven, showed me
Flatland,
a scientific parable dealing with physics that he read when he was in high school, and told me to keep this book as it was in the first edition: short, personal, as close to a novel as possible, something I kept in mind throughout the exercise of this reworking (he tried to convince me to not do this second edition, I begged him to do a second one of his own
Irrational Exuberance,
be it only for my own consumption; I think that I won both points). Books have bubble dynamics of the type discussed in Chapter 10 , a matter that makes an extra edition of an existing book far more likely to break through the critical point than a new one (network externalities make religions and fads fare incrementally better in their second editions than brand-new ones). The physicist and crash theorist Didier Sornette provided me with convincing arguments for the effectiveness of a second version; we are surprised that book publishers who thrive on informational cascades are not conscious of the point.
During much of the rewriting of this book I was under the energizing influence of two intense dinner conversations in Italy with Daniel Kahneman, which had the effect of “pushing” me to the next critical point of
Christine Zolendz, Frankie Sutton, Okaycreations