What if the mystery of market crashes and trader or investor meltdowns stems from a simple but total misunderstanding of our own minds? Could everything we think we know about ourselves—intelligence and rationality versus emotion and irrationality—be missing the mark?
Simply put—yes.
Connecting the dots across the vast fields in neuroscience shows that we actually perceive, judge, and decide in ways that operate almost in diametric opposition to the reigning theories in psychology and economics. Somewhere between Socrates and the mid-20th century rise of the cognitive behavioral school of psychology, we promoted intellect to chairman of the board. In reality, the wide-ranging category of feelings, which includes both conscious and unconscious emotion, owns all the shares.
Now I am by far not the first to say that we misunderstand how we really think.
Nassim Taleb told us in his runaway bestseller, The Black Swan, that “it looks like we have the wrong user’s manual” and I could not agree more! The manual we need begins not with the assumed superiority of thought and reason but with the foundation of feeling and emotion, which contributes the meanings of anything and everything. For many decades now our attention has been focused almost exclusively on our thinking and our behavior. The more mysterious realm of feelings resided in the most relegated seat of all, that of being old, useless, and destructive. Ironically, linking together our failures to solve the mystery of meltdowns with the rapidly growing insights into how perceptions are formed proves that this dismissed realm belong front and center, first and foremost.
This overemphasis on our thinking (or cognition to use the academic term) underlies the second complaint of Taleb’s, which I also agree with: the great intellectual fraud, or GIF, of the bell curve. This bedrock of the field of probability (and by extension the endeavor of market predictions) stems from the misplaced emphasis on the seemingly unique human ability to discover and apply the numerical disciplines of algebra, calculus, and theoretical mathematics. In fact, one can argue that a zealous belief in an ostensibly omnipotent power of numbers has mislead us into our current reckoning with billion-dollar bonfires.
I do, however, part ways with Taleb when he says, “A small number of Black Swans explain almost everything in our world.” If we take the whole of what we now know about how we perceive anything imprecise or conflicting (like market data), it won’t be Black Swans that will do the explaining. It will be a totally new operating guide for a fully interactive psyche—fully reciprocal thinking, feeling, and emoting—that transforms his first identifier of “Black Swans”—“an outlier, as it lies outside the realm of regular expectations, because nothing in the past can convincingly point to its possibility”—into nicely bleached birds. Not only will many things that might escape expectation be expected, but they will easily fall into his lower standard of “the possible.”
Taleb would almost certainly say that I am proving his third assertion—“in spite of outlier status, human nature makes us concoct explanations for its occurrence after the fact, making it explainable and predictable.” But I am not talking about explaining after the fact, although better explanations of events do lead to an increase in knowledge overall; I am talking about the missing link in predicting. I am talking about picking up where our agreed upon GIF leaves off.
In plain English, I am simply saying that if we come to understand how we truly perceive, think, and decide—how all human brains take in, process, and act on data—that neither the explanations of randomness nor Black Swans will be so frequently needed. In fact, if we focus on the first one—perception—we will gain much. If we begin to incorporate the new realities of the sources of our own behavior in the market or in any high-risk decision, we will much more easily understand why we so often do that which we wish we wouldn’t have.
Clearly, after centuries of debate in perception psychology, I am not writing just to be a writer. I intend to submit ideas that offer a theory that beats a theory—the unquestioned superiority of the intellect over the human realities of feeling and emotion. As such, I think it only fair that I explain how we got here.
In 2003, after updating for publication my master’s thesis on unconscious patterns of perception and behavior and after nine years as a trader in a number of different environments, I had an idea about how understanding of conscious and unconscious emotions applied to trading. Gail Osten, now of the Chicago Board Options Exchange, found it interesting enough to publish the beginnings of the idea in the magazine, SFO, Stock, Futures and Options, which she then edited. Somewhat to my amazement, a handful of traders and portfolio managers called to ask for help in applying the ideas.
A few years later, my own futures broker asked me to speak publicly on my thoughts about emotions and market decisions. Now almost seven years later, I have had the unexpected, enlightening and frankly, delightful experience to teach my theory and its application to a few thousand people who daily deal in markets. A truly unexpected number of them have said, “That’s it—you’re right. This finally makes sense.” One trader who attended a CME Group talk I gave for floor traders always says that he knew I was truly onto something when he watched 150 floor traders remain motionless in their seats for over an hour while I explained how one’s unconscious needs and expectations could change a market decision. In 25 years of trading he had never seen floor traders sit still for anything! From his seat near the door he marveled that only one person left the room.
Finally, what even Taleb might agree with is that a highly unlikely number of these traders have reported notably more success with what turns out to be their relationship with—and not their probability analyses of—markets, risk, and uncertainty.
Market Mind Games outlines my attempt to curate all that I have learned in trading, investing, neuroscience, and consulting into one coherent, logical, and usable structure.
Here’s the big picture of where we are going:
• Perception
• Beliefs as the foundation of judgment
• Judgment as the key to uncertainty
• The mind’s recipe for making sense of “risk”
• The imperative of using emotions as data
• The natural law of contexts
• fC or feeling context—a physical state
• eC or emotional context—a type of fC
• The gargantuan role of the F-eC (or the fractal-emotional context)
• Managing to psychological and emotional capital
• Creating and re-creating psychological leverage
It doesn’t matter if you look at this from the perspective of the group or the individual, whether you want to know how to make better portfolio and trading decisions for yourself, or whether you are at the Securities and Exchange Commission or Federal Reserve and you want to understand the minds and behaviors of professional traders. Billion dollar bonfires and market minion meltdowns stem from single matches of the mind being lit with the kindling of uncertainty.
Whether you care about the quickening pace of statistically improbable events or you simply want to play this market game at a higher level—not being beat by this perceptual game demands that you take on a gut-renovation of how you think about markets, unknowability, and bets on other people’s future behavior.
Rethink the:
• Internal mind game or your own mental capital
• External mind games or the waves of perception that wash from one market-involved mind to the next—even if that mind uses a computer as translator
Again, like Taleb, this is not about behavior—it’s about thinking.
Thinking about thinking is known as metacognition; and while the “how” of what to do is what everyone always wants to know, you need to thoroughly understand the why first. If you don’t, you won’t believe in it; and if you don’t believe it, you can’t feel it; and if you can’t feel it, you won’t—and actually cannot—do it. Oh, it might look like you do—for some time period equivalent to the average success on a diet, say—but soon, you will be in search of a new answer, strategy, or miracle.
“They” taught us—and we like to believe—that with our much larger frontal cortexes, the pinnacle of human intelligence lies in our skills of logic, reason, and math. While certainly clever, these abilities that have allowed mankind to deduce the underlying calculus and fractal geometry of nature, in fact, still depend completely on the senses, feelings, and emotions that came before.
Thinking relies on a fuel we have undervalued—our feelings, conscious and unconscious. First of all to do it, we need to want to understand something. That wanting? It is a feeling.
But that barely scratches the surface. Feelings include both sensory experiences—touch, tired, sore, for example (the bodily based sensations)—and emotional feelings, which we also feel in our bodies but in a different way than we feel tired or sick to our stomachs. The re-emergence, at least in Western culture, of the infinite loop of the body-brain-mind reveals the answers to the individual or societal frustrations of “Why do I do what I do?” or “How could they do what they do?” In other words, we feel feelings and emotions in our bodies and therefore we must include the “physical” in the mental.
The new imperative for deciphering and disentangling the mind games of markets, and of all uncertainty, lies in the individual experience of what I call the fC. This fC refers to the feelings context or context of feelings we bring to each and every perception we have, judgment we make, and decision we act on. It also follows then that looking at markets from the perspective of the collective fCs offers the student something much more useful than attempting to find the missing natural mathematical law.
Let me give you just a simple related example. In December 2010, the work of a special, presidentially appointed task force, the Financial Crisis Inquiry Commission, reportedly broke down. With a new context of confidence after the Republican rout of the November 2010 elections, a subgroup decided to release their own report and voted to ban from any final written report the words “Wall Street” and “shadow banking.” Now of course, we just call this partisanship or a political circus. None of us were waiting with bated breath for the report anyway. But ask yourself: What is behind partisanship and political circuses? Isn’t it always that one side holds one set of beliefs and the other side the opposite or at least highly dissimilar points of view?
Now think for a moment about what a belief or point of view even is. Wouldn’t you say at a minimum that to have a point of view you have to believe in something? And to believe in something you have to have the confidence (this is one of those feeling things) that your belief is correct? This belief and its attendant feeling of confidence in its “rightness” is a context of feelings; in this case, the most important context—the eC or emotional context. Try as you might you will never truly be able to find an opinion, an analysis, or a decision that lacks an eC. Never. If that is not a natural law, I don’t know what is!
Given the prevailing opinion of feelings and emotions, this thesis might startle you. I mean, we like feelings and emotions in love, sports, and any kind of performance. Yet in decisions about risk; we categorically reject their value and usually blame any regrettable decision on the very existence of emotion.
Yet the hard cold truth is an emotion alone never made or lost a dime. That is a fact.
Only the actions that arise from or act out a feeling can make or lose money. Yet, for decades, we’ve put all our energy into thinking about thinking and behavior while disdaining and ignoring emotion. Blame the Greek philosophers or organized religion or your parents or whomever, but I am asking you to take a leap and benefit from eradicating all these ineffective assumptions that remain so widely reiterated.
Hence, I do need to provide a safety net, or at least some sturdy scaffolding. Think about learning something that you originally considered difficult but eventually “got.” First, you “sort of” understood it. You might have been able to hear it and follow but you couldn’t turn around and recount it. If you hear it again, however, a little more comes together. Your brain held in place some of the elements but it needed time to sort and organize and to connect new concepts into old knowledge. It repeats that process until you have new knowledge or skill. But it always needs a holding area.
Therefore, with a thesis built exclusively on the imperative but elusive and normally discarded arena of feelings, senses, emotions, and the unconscious, it will definitely help to have an at-the-ready staging area. If emotions in particular have long since been buried in a place you can’t find, it will be very difficult—almost impossible—to internalize what is being said, even if you try. Not only will you not be able to recall or translate the information to share it with someone, you won’t be able to begin to turn it into psychological leverage.
I also want to incorporate a fair amount of science. Luckily, it so happens that research shows we can understand logical questions better when they are put in human terms. I therefore owe you a new “spider web” or a mental staging area to at least catch the ideas and information while you put it together for yourself.
One craft of writing—storytelling—combined with our innate ability to more easily process information when it arrives in social or human terms elegantly solves the problem at hand. In other words, I’ve drafted a few fictional characters to help out. In the pages that follow, you will be joining them as they attend fictional versions of my typical lectures, workshops and consulting programs. Hopefully, their learning curve will shorten yours. More importantly, I hope they provide the practical bridge for what will be your own mental coup d’état over the mind games inherent in all markets. Let me introduce you to:
• Michael Kelley, an academic about to get a real shot at running money
• Richard Kelley, Michael’s austere and judgmental father, who, like all parents, looms large in his conscious and unconscious mind
• Renee Smith, the daughter of a former floor trader
• Christopher Smith, Renee’s father
As you and these figments of my imagination will see, the most enduring edge can be found within our own psyches.
Many clients tell me this approach changes not only their trading but their lives. Markets, and especially dealing with them, are microcosms of life. They simply masquerade as numerical puzzles.
Humans make markets and the human mind plays games—both on other human minds and on itself. Let’s now recast the playing field in a way that brings you all the winning moves.