The instability of significance
- 2 hours ago
- 4 min read
Something REALLY SIGNIFICANT happened to me today!
— Sorry, did I say significant? I meant INsignificant.
You too?
MORE than one insignificant thing?
We should talk about that.
The significance of numbers
If this was a post about working at the stock exchange — it isn't — I might talk about the price of oil or gold. Exchange rates. Share prices. To be honest I have no idea, but I've seen clips I think.
Shouting. Screens.
Everyone's on their phone.
It's a bit like the scenes in films of space travel where the whole team has to pull together for the sake of the really really big screen at the front.
And in the same way, the people in the stock exchange clips I've seen seem really significant. They may be packed in together like they're stuck in an enormous lift, but the energy is high. Even their clothes seem urgent — sleeves rolled up on crisp lavender shirts, designer frames.
A frenzy of accountants.
And then at the last moment a golden bell gets rung, is that right?
I don't know. Obviously. But apparently the stock exchange makes a material difference to life, even for me. And you. Tiny choices, numbers and shirt sleeves, they might seem insignificant to other people but they all add up.
Making the world go round. Numbers, numbers, numbers…
Chapter 11 of that book (Numbers) seems relevant.
Let's say it this way.
Imagine a whole civilisation of people stuck in a lift, enacting the imaginary stock exchange day after day. Over generations. It's all they know.
Then suddenly there's a rumour that the lift door is going to open. They're one corridor away from freedom! Fresh air. Something completely different.
Whoosh.
Out they go.
One long queue.
Sandwiches provided.
Sorry, no cheese. No pastrami. No tomatoes. Be patient. In time you'll get all the ingredients you need, but for now, well, this is a corridor, not primarily an all you can eat buffet.
Walk, walk, w… how long exactly is this corridor?
I mean. It's been a while. We've been having to take a nap on the way. If I had to guess — well, it almost seems like… weeks? Can't be. Feels like it.
Walk, walk, walk.
Yawn.
Walk.
Everyone's thinking it, so I might as well just say it out loud —
WHERE ARE THE SCREENS?
HOW CAN I COPE WITHOUT MY PHONE?
WHEN IS THE BELL GOING TO RING?
There. It's said.
Nothing to see here at all. Sand-coloured carpet, that's all. On and on.
Not even a clock.
Walking, walking, walking.
Some of us turned around for a while — tried walking backwards for a bit.
Held hands for a few steps and did that skipping thing they do in the Wizard of Oz…
Bumped into the people ahead. They were practising their moonwalking…
deep loud sigh
ARE WE THERE YET?
I remember the good old days, don't you? Loud, busy, targets, no holidays, slaving away to earn a crust — yes, yes, now we're handed a daily sandwich so, on paper, that part is solved, I'll give you that.
But in some ways, you know — that lift? It was all kinds of things. Okay, it was stress, pressure, slavish focus all of the time, with no let up.
But to us — it was home.
Meanwhile, this corridor.
There's nothing to do but walk.
Nothing to do. But keep walking.
And everything is SO INSIGNIFICANT.
Nothing means anything. At. All.
Walking.
I'll tell you what IS significant — I see it now. Cheese. Pastrami. Now we're talking. Juicy tomatoes on the vine. Now, that's a sandwich. Back in the old days, you know, back in the lift, we'd have the juiciest tomatoes. How we laughed about the cheese, painting pictures and penning poems about pastrami. Ah, I remember it well. I think I do…
Back then life really MEANT something.
Here? We've been walking for, days. Months! Whole financial years are passing us by with nothing significant to measure and trade in. Frankly unreasonable, this is!
Walk, walk…
Some of us tried a thing with the sandwiches back there. Made a plan to start stockpiling them just for something to do. A bonus scheme to take the edge of the boredom. But turns out — small print — these sandwiches don't have preservatives, they have the opposite, or something.
Who ever heard of that?
Completely mouldy in the morning.
Maggots and everything.
I'm not kidding.
Had to dump them.
Still seeing the odd fly…
And so we walk.
Camera angles on the sandwiches
For the imaginary lift-escaping stockbrokers walking the long, long corridor to freedom, every footstep is a footstep closer. Walking and walking, they're accumulating ten million insignificant steps that altogether equal the whole journey.
Keep going!
If you were in charge of motivating the stragglers at the back, you could tell them —
At least each step takes you further away from the pile of mouldy sandwiches!
But even for those at the front, everything has started to seem so insignificant in the corridor. The virtuous-sounding thought of valuing each footstep feels almost insulting.
A whole day walking.
Literally forty years of walking.
That's not nothing.
Just keep going! Every footstep counts!!
The bumper sticker mantra could be true, and yet to those halfway back it feels like live slave-driving in another voice. It feels like:
Every penny counts.
You earn £2million? Watch the pennies and one day you MIGHT get your private jet. Your own island!
Every penny counts.
Ahh, only £50k? Watch the pennies.
One day you MIGHT buy a home.
Every penny counts.
Oh, only £15k?
Don't watch the pennies. That's depressing.
Watch TV.
But you see my point.
The proverbially rich, and the proverbially poor.
Movie Stars and celebrity footballers.
Jobbing actors doing free commercials trying to catch a break.
Just keep going! Every footstep counts!!
Someone navigating personal crisis.
(Don't get me wrong, they already own a jet and an island, but…)
Just keep going!
Every footstep counts!!
Someone should write a blog post about who gets to say what's significant and what counts.
Want to say something back?
If this fires you up with ideas, sends you to another book you've thought of, keeps you awake at night, or nudges you to a perspective I've clearly overlooked, I'd be glad to hear from you.
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