Tell me the future

I don't like the uncertainty of the future, it niggles at me. But a lot of people enjoy it. They relish not knowing what's going to happen tomorrow or next month or next year, and they would hate to know exactly what the future holds.

I would love to know what it holds. How long I'm going to live, whether I'm going to get a serious illness, how long Jenny and my mother and sister are going to live, how much money I'm going to have, whether we're all doomed by global warming.

If I knew the answers to all these imponderables I'd be better able to plan ahead and prevent a lot of sudden crises and bad decisions. I'd know what and whom I should pay more attention to and what I could happily ignore.

But the uncertainty bugs me. I want clarity, I want parameters. I sometimes wake in the middle of the night, pondering all these unknowns yet again and wondering how they will all pan out. I'll lie there for an hour mulling them over and obviously getting no answers, just losing some precious sleep.

Other people are equally adamant they don't want to know what's coming. If they're about to get a windfall, or a plum job, or meet the love of their life, they want it to be a wonderful surprise. Or if some disaster is going to befall them, they'd rather not know until it actually confronts them. Wouldn't it be rather depressing, they say, if you knew a whole string of tragedies was coming your way?

Well, maybe or maybe not. If you knew they were coming, perhaps you could avert them. Or if they were inevitable, you could make the most of your present opportunities. If you knew your loved one was going to die, you could take that holiday of a lifetime or buy them that stunning £1000 dress/ suit before they went.

I need to know my destiny. I need a Tardis.

Out to lunch

All those beleaguered companies out there are relying on their clear thinking and business acumen to get them through the recession, right? Er, not always - some of them are turning to psychics, mediums and astrologers.

They're so unsure of their own judgment, they're resorting to the supernatural to show them the way forward. Trade is booming for those who predict the future and what life has in store for you.

People like Russell Grant and the British Astrological and Psychic Society say consultations by business types like bankers and lawyers have jumped by up to 30 per cent since the recession started.

They want to know whether to make a major change to their business, whether a key decision is the right one, or even whether to sack their staff.

As one of the psychics says, instead of paying consultants £20,000 a month for often dubious advice, why not pay a lot less for a psychic who might actually be more help?

Well, it's certainly cheaper, but to imagine a psychic's advice is more reliable than your own conclusions is bizarre. Of course it must be nerve-racking trying to make vital business decisions in the midst of economic chaos, but to believe some smooth-talking soothsayer can magically point you in the right direction is bonkers.

I'd like to know how many of the psychics' clients have actually made the right decisions and kept their businesses afloat, and how many haven't. I suspect it would be roughly 50/50, much the same as if the psychics' special powers had never been called on.

And if all these hundreds of psychics were apparently unable to predict the recession in the first place, can we really have much faith that they can miraculously foresee what's coming next?