We live in an age where your phone buzzes every five minutes with a new “breaking” headline. Politicians thunder on TV. Analysts fire off charts with arrows pointing in every possible direction. Central bankers speak in riddles, and markets behave like caffeinated toddlers.

It’s all very serious. Very complex. Very… exhausting.

But sometimes, the clearest wisdom doesn’t come from the “experts” who flood our screens. It comes from a four-year-old asking “Why?”

Yes, this unlikely philosopher may have more to teach us about today’s world than the entire commentariat combined.

The Four-Year-Old and the Weaponized “Why?”

Recently my daughter Amanda was visiting us from Sydney Australia with her family for a six week stay --- with James her husband, Harvey the 4-year-old, and Charlie Rose the 7-month-old. I spent a lot of enjoyable time especially with the 4-year-old.

Every parent, and I’m sure grandparent, has lived this interrogation ritual.

You: “It’s bedtime.”
Them: “Why?”
You: “Because it’s late.”
Them: “Why?”
You: “Because you need sleep.”
Them: “Why?”

At some point, you either collapse in defeat or start quoting neuroscience research at a preschooler.

Annoying? Yes. Brilliant? Also, yes.

Because while adults settle for the first explanation, the four-year-old insists on digging until the foundations are exposed. And that is exactly what we should be doing in today’s world of politics, finance, and markets.

A politician declares, “We’re raising tariffs to protect national security.” The four-year-old in us says: Why?
• Why this product, this month?
• Why does “security” actually mean “campaign donors”?
• Why are markets reacting as though the sky is falling when the actual numbers are tiny?

Same in finance and markets. Stocks dip 2% in a day and the headline blares:

“Markets rattle on uncertainty.” The grown-up shrugs. The inner four-year-old leans in: Why?
• Why uncertainty now, when nothing changed since yesterday?
• Why are algorithms turning jitters into stampedes?
• Why do humans still let computers run the show after 2010’s Flash Crash?

The four-year-old sees what many analysts forget: the first answer is rarely the real answer.

The old parable seldom heeded --- The Truck That Couldn’t Get Through

Now, picture this scene. A giant truck gets stuck under a bridge. Too tall. Jammed in tight.

Traffic piles up. Horns blare. Politicians promise inquiries.

Experts assemble ---- engineers, city officials, tow crews. Suggestions fly: dismantle the bridge, saw off the truck, summon a crane the size of Godzilla.

And then a youngster on the sidewalk says: “Why don’t you just let some air out of the tires?”

Cue silence. Cue sheepish looks. Cue truck rolling free.

It’s funny — but it’s also familiar. Because we watch versions of this every day.

The Federal Reserve ties itself in knots trying to signal future policy with “dot plots” that markets misread anyway. Maybe the truck isn’t inflation — maybe it’s expectations, and all you need is a nudge in tone, not a bulldozer of rate hikes.

Or take trade. Governments built Byzantine agreements, then scrambled with tariffs, subsidies, and finger-pointing when supply chains collapsed. Yet much of the chaos boiled down to a simple bottleneck: not enough dockworkers or warehouses. Sometimes letting the “air out of the tires” means fixing port staffing instead of redesigning the global economy.

The experts had blueprints. The adolescent had perspective.

Lessons for Today’s Charged Environment 

So, what do these stories teach us, beyond entertaining kids at bedtime? Quite a lot:
1. Ask “Why?” Until the Spin Unravels
   Headlines are theater. Drill until you hit the truth. Spoiler: it’s usually power, money, or fear.
2. Don’t Get Stuck Under the Bridge of Complexity
   If you’re lost in jargon, you’re probably overcomplicating. Sometimes the fix is absurdly simple — but only visible if you’re not wearing the Expert Hat™.
3. Stay Humble
   Outsiders — whether a kid on the sidewalk or a contrarian investor — often see what insiders miss. That doesn’t make experts useless, but it does make humility priceless.

The Discipline of Simplicity

Put these together and you’ve got a playbook for surviving the noise:
• Be as curious as the four-year-old.
• Think as sideways as the adolescent at the bridge.
• Resist the urge to worship complexity when simplicity works better.

Closing Thought

The next time you’re buried under market alerts, listening to politicians’ shout past each other, or trying to decode a central banker’s cryptic hints, pause. Ask yourself:
• What would the four-year-old ask?
• What would the adolescent on the sidewalk suggest?

Because sometimes the smartest move isn’t another model, policy, or speech. Sometimes it’s just letting the air out of the tires.

And if the “experts” roll their eyes at that? Well… ask them Why.

 

John Vidas

October 2025