Editor’s Note: econVue fellow Saliya Weerakoon reflects on the human emotions that shape decision-making in business, diplomacy and markets. His essay arrives amid new reporting that Iran may be rebuilding suspected nuclear facilities and renewed tensions around the Strait of Hormuz.
Against that backdrop, this lyrical VuePoint calls to mind the 12th-century Persian poem “The Conference of the Birds”. Birds from around the world gather in search of a sovereign who can guide them. Their journey becomes an allegory of human fear, longing and self-knowledge — a fitting image for Weerakoon’s reflection on the invisible council of hope, fear and jealousy that accompanies decisions made under uncertainty.
The Limits of Logic
Some of the most important decisions in my life have also been the most difficult to explain.
They involved my family, my business and, more recently, the essays I write. I searched for evidence, listened carefully to competing views and tried to construct rational explanations before arriving at a decision. I sometimes wonder whether those decisions were ever guided by logic alone. Experience seemed to whisper quietly. Intuition occasionally interrupted reason. Hope encouraged one direction, fear questioned another, and jealousy, although less welcome, sometimes revealed itself in unexpected places.
Explaining those decisions to others often proved more difficult than making them. Rational arguments helped me understand my own thinking, although they rarely produced complete agreement around a boardroom table. Over time, I found myself returning to a simple question: if individual lives are seldom guided by logic alone, why should nations be any different?
That question gradually changed the way I observed the world. Boardrooms looked different. Governments looked different. Financial markets looked different. International negotiations also appeared less mechanical than they first seemed. Institutions express themselves through policies, strategies and carefully prepared statements. Behind those institutions, however, sit people carrying memories, ambitions, disappointments, responsibilities and uncertainty.
The Invisible Council
Perhaps civilisation has always been accompanied by an invisible council. Hope, fear and jealousy never cast a vote, sign a treaty or issue a public statement. Even so, they seem to accompany many of the decisions that eventually shape history. They wait quietly beside those entrusted with difficult choices.
Diplomacy Under Pressure
The recent diplomatic exchanges between the United States and Iran encouraged me to think about that possibility once again. Only weeks ago, an interim understanding created cautious optimism. Markets steadied. Commercial shipping through the Strait of Hormuz appeared to move toward gradual normalisation. Governments, investors and businesses briefly allowed themselves to imagine that one of the world’s most dangerous confrontations might slowly move toward greater stability.
That confidence weakened quickly. Military exchanges resumed. Political accusations returned, even as diplomatic channels remained open. New reporting and satellite imagery also raised concerns that Iran may be rebuilding suspected nuclear facilities. The understanding appeared neither fully alive nor completely abandoned. Viewed only through diplomacy, those developments may appear contradictory. Viewed through the psychology of decision-making, they may simply remind us that agreements are negotiated by people before they become documents.
Hope may encourage leaders to begin negotiating because they understand the cost of permanent conflict. Fear may persuade the same leaders to hesitate when compromise appears politically dangerous. Jealousy may quietly influence questions of prestige, influence and strategic advantage. Perhaps all three remain present, even if they never appear in official communiqués.
The Silence Around the Table
During the past few weeks, I found myself listening carefully to friends across different parts of the world. A former J.P. Morgan investment banker remained cautious about predicting financial markets because experience had taught him how quickly certainty can disappear. A Vietnam War veteran viewed the Middle East through memories formed decades ago, reminding me that old conflicts rarely leave the minds of those who lived through them. A Singaporean pioneer in artificial intelligence examined the same events through the language of systems and accelerating technology. An Indian author kept returning to the human story behind the headlines. Their conclusions differed, though each reflected a lifetime of lived experience.
Most importantly, there were many who remained silent. Their silence seemed to speak a different language. Some no longer wished to choose sides. Others appeared tired of reacting to events that felt beyond their control. Silence, I began to realise, may also be a form of judgment.
Walking through ordinary streets offers another perspective altogether. Most people I meet are not thinking about Tehran or Washington. They are thinking about rising living costs, their children’s education, their livelihoods and whether tomorrow will be a little more secure than today. The younger people I meet often express one quiet hope. They believe adults, particularly those entrusted with power, require greater maturity.
Perhaps that observation deserves as much attention as the diplomatic statements.
What Algorithms Cannot Feel
Artificial intelligence has also become part of this changing landscape. Algorithms now interpret shipping movements, commodity prices, satellite imagery, political statements and financial sentiment within seconds. Markets increasingly respond to calculations that no human mind could perform alone. Unlike the people who designed them, algorithms carry neither hope, fear nor jealousy. They simply calculate.
That distinction invites reflection rather than certainty. Algorithms appear remarkably capable of interpreting information. Human beings remain considerably more difficult to interpret. A carefully chosen diplomatic sentence may reassure financial markets while provoking political rivals. The same military action may strengthen confidence in one capital while deepening anxiety in another. Human judgment continues to move through memory, emotion, intuition and experience in ways that rarely follow mathematical precision.
The world itself appears increasingly noisy. Artificial intelligence amplifies narratives before facts have fully settled. Markets interpret political language almost instantly. Public opinion often forms before governments complete their own assessments. Decision-makers are expected to project confidence while operating with incomplete information and carrying responsibilities whose consequences may extend far beyond anything they intended.
Watching the United States and Iran over recent weeks, I found myself thinking less about missiles and memoranda than about the people carrying those responsibilities. A political leader signs a treaty. A military commander authorises an operation. A central banker makes an announcement. A chief executive commits billions of dollars. An investor deploys capital accumulated over decades. Those decisions may appear institutional from the outside, although each is ultimately experienced by a human being navigating uncertainty.
The Human Question
Perhaps that is why I keep returning to the same question. Technology continues changing the instruments through which civilisation operates. Artificial intelligence may transform economies, diplomacy and warfare in ways we are only beginning to understand. Institutions will continue evolving. Markets will become faster. Information will travel almost instantly. The human condition, however, may continue evolving at its own pace.
I do not know whether hope, fear and jealousy explain the world. They do, however, seem to appear repeatedly whenever difficult decisions are made under conditions of uncertainty. Perhaps that invisible council has always been present. It may have sat quietly beside kings and queens, presidents and prime ministers, entrepreneurs and investors, parents and children. It may also be sitting beside us today, listening patiently before the next important decision is made.
That possibility, at least, may be worth reflecting upon.
Saliya Weerakoon
Saliya Weerakoon is an executive, entrepreneur, columnist, and public speaker with 30 years of experience in Asia Pacific and Middle Eastern markets. Saliya is a fellow at econVue. He lives in Colombo, Sri Lanka and…