URSABLOG: Ultimately Beneficial

This week I was forced to listen to myself for over forty minutes talk about something I really should know something about. I was invited by Justin Hayden Miller to speak on his Privileged Discussions podcast on shipping and shipbuilding, which is in the news these days, particularly in the context of the United States Trade Representative’s recommendations, the subsequent draft Executive Order and China’s likely response to it. It was happy timing: although the podcast was recorded a couple of weeks ago, events in the meantime made it more relevant. For those with time on their hands and nothing better to do, you can listen to it on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.

I found the experience of listening to myself uncomfortable and unsettling, not only because I didn’t entirely agree with some of what I had said, but also because my voice sounds less like me than I imagined. I have – I now realise – some standard phrases or words that I use constantly, and I now am very self-conscious when I am speaking to others. I have a sudden  urge to improve my speaking voice, be more effective when making my points, and generally becoming more coherent. I expect that this attention to detail will soon pass however, as I fall back into everyday slovenliness and sullenness.

The podcast was published on Wednesday, and on Thursday I was due to lecture at the MSc International Shipping, Finance and Management course at the Athens University of Business and Economics. I am not an academic, let alone a shipping academic but I am invited by the University to give an introductory lecture to ship sale and purchase, one on the premises of the Greek branch of the Institute of Chartered Shipbrokers – to promote our programme – and then at the University itself.

The second lecture is based around the psychology of the shipping markets, particularly the freight and sale and purchase markets and how sentiment can not only influence the market, but in certain phases drive it beyond what are often called the fundamentals of supply and demand. This combines a lot of the ideas I have developed over the years as a working sale and purchase shipbroker, observing the nature of the marketing and negotiations that take place in different phases of the market.

In the final part of the lecture I divide the students into teams, and they compete with each other – using real historical market data – to amass the most money, in terms of cash and the values of their ships, from a period starting in the summer of 2003. It’s very simple, but it can be illuminating.

The point of the exercise is to show that all have varying levels of risk appetite, and some are certainly more risk averse than others. It also shows how competitive we are as a species, even when there is nothing at stake, both within the teams as individuals and as the teams compete with each other. There are also interesting cultural differences – there is an international intake of students on the course – as well as gender stereotypes and the challenging of them. I always find it interesting and new things come up every time. This time I was particularly struck by one student asking whether the teams would be kept updated of the other’s scores. This being an important element of the game – competition – I was surprised at his dismay when I told him that they would be.

It was a fun end to this short series of lectures, and I was glad to join them for after-class drinks nearby. The conversation there concentrated mainly on the topics that concerned them: getting a job in shipping and career development, work-life balance, what to specialise in and so on. The conversation drifted into other areas and was lively, funny and rewarding. I found their insights – into work, education and life – refreshing and rewarding and the next day (although a little tired) I found myself still reflecting on what we had shared.

In the introduction to the podcast, I had been described as an expert in shipping, something I am uncomfortable with. Whether I am wise or not, I know that what I don’t know in my field easily surpasses what I do know. This is not just about what is happening in the market, or even what my clients are up to or what they are thinking at any given time, but more specific things, like the latest designs and developments in naval architecture, the latest legal let alone what is going on geopolitically and economically in the world at large.

In lectures I encourage my students to interact and challenge what I am saying, as well as ask questions and be curious. I maintain that I am not the most intelligent person in the room – always true – and I don’t necessarily know more than anyone else. I have come to believe over time that there is a joy in finding out things I don’t know rather than being embarrassed when I am found ignorant.

One phrase has been buzzing around in my brain this weekend: cui bono, i.e. who benefits? I don’t know where it has come from; perhaps my continuing perplexity at the barrage of Executive Orders coming from the Oval Office, and whether they are part of a grand scheme that mere mortals like me cannot begin to understand, but I think it’s also about the podcast. There was so much more there that I wanted to say, to clarify, to get into deeper, to explore, but as an ‘expert’ I was expected to give the final word on so many things where the natural answer would be “it depends”.

In the end, I wonder who will benefit from my brief foray into the world of podcasts. I benefited perhaps from the self-knowledge it brought me: I am not such a great speaker after all, I tend to go ‘off-piste’, I don’t have any killer points to make, I like to show off my knowledge rather than come up with new ideas, I hide behind witticisms and outspokenness so I don’t reveal the shallowness of my opinions, understanding and knowledge. But I very much doubt whether anyone else – especially in shipping – benefited from my ramblings. Did I get across what I really wanted to say? Would it have made any difference to anyone if I had?

The lecture at AUEB is the same: did anyone really learn anything new? Did I make them think? Did I make a difference? I don’t know. Maybe I am judging myself too harshly, or maybe it is just  the spirit of the times where I seem to be being swept along by events out of my control, where individuals cannot make a difference.

However, deep down in me there is a voice telling me it’s important, but it’s not about me, it’s about us. There are times when you read and hear things, experience things, meet people and do things, things that can change the direction of your life and make you reassess the course that you have been taking, challenge your opinions – of yourself and the world around you – that, discomfiting and revelatory as they may be, help in moving the game forward.

This week it was not the podcast or the lecture that made me think differently about the world, or about my life and the direction it has been going. Rather they were markers to how far I had come. It was the after-class drinks, and the conversations I had there, that made me think that not only hadn’t I reached the end of what I want to do, it made me feel that I haven’t even started yet. I was the beneficiary of the realisation that instead of being hopeless in the face of uncertainty, there is a certainty and energy in action, any action, and without action there is nothing.

Cui bono? If I obsess about what matters to me, what will benefit me, then I will be stuck in a place where nothing much really happens. If however I act, and move, and live, and take risks to break away from the conventions that I have built for myself to navigate through my life, maybe my life will be more worthwhile, and it may make the lives of those around me a little more worthwhile as well.

I suspect – ultimately – my discomfort with hearing myself speak on the podcast was due to my disappointment that I could have expressed myself better, that it could have had a beneficial effect on those listening that could lead to something happening. But that is just vain, irresponsible self-flattery, saying – or writing for that matter – things that someone else has to go and do something about it, and then blaming those same others, whoever they are, for their inaction. Doing something – even if it will ultimately end in failure and disappointment – is better than doing nothing. And as for the risk? Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Simon Ward