In normal times, markets lean on two anchors: steady data and clear central-bank guidance. In 2024–2025, both feel loose. Measures of U.S. policy uncertainty have hit multi-decade highs, and investors are reacting less to trends than to each new twist in the story.

What looked like a near-certain December rate cut suddenly became “less clear-cut and less certain” after Fed officials publicly split; the October 2025 meeting produced rare dissents in both directions, and Chair Powell cautioned that another cut was “not a foregone conclusion.” The policy path has been a moving target, and markets are trading on that uncertainty rather than clarity.

Central bankers like to say that monetary policy works through expectations. A beautiful concept implying a public that is constantly calculating, analyzing, and adjusting to the Fed's subtle signals. But that sophisticated engine only runs, of course, if someone actually bothers to update those expectations. In a paper I have forthcoming in the Journal of Economic Analysis, I dig into this very question: Do U.S. households truly revise their core assumptions about inflation, interest rates, and housing when the Federal Reserve makes an announcement? The period I examined (2013 to 2021) was nearly a decade full of unconventional tools, "forward guidance," and agonizingly slow normalization. This was the perfect test bed to see how much of the Fed's careful communication truly reaches the public.

The short answer? It reaches them, but on very narrow terms.

It began with headlines.

“Amazon cuts 14,000 corporate jobs as spending on artificial intelligence accelerates.”

“Salesforce CEO: ‘I need less heads.’”

“Meta axes 600 roles amid AI expansion.”

Each announcement laced with brutal irony, revealing companies not in distress but actually flourishing through the very mechanisms that deemed their hires expendable. Fair is fair, though, right? Nothing illegal happened, and technically this is an expectation of the marketplace. So, one can only wish these families all the best… right?

Then came the tag: “AI and robots will replace all jobs,” making work essentially “optional, like growing your own vegetables.”

In my last article, I discussed how companies and policymakers can step in to help in an AI-driven labor market. What about educational institutions? While students themselves can develop skills to prepare, educational institutions can play a role in guiding them on which skills to develop.

A college education implicitly promises increased access to career opportunities and higher earnings. But students often don’t know what they don’t know when it comes to preparing for careers. Upon entering college, they usually can’t name the particular skills they’ll need to succeed as, say, a data scientist. Instead, they place their trust in key college courses to provide relevant material.

In our business, precision is power. We build predictive models for clients making some of their biggest fiscal decisions. A couple of months ago, one of our best performers, a model that had nailed inventory needs quarter after quarter, started to drift. Its forecasts weren’t wrong, exactly. Just… fuzzier. The prediction intervals widened. The signals got noisier.

When we investigated, the culprit wasn’t the math; it was the map. Our assumptions, built on decades of reliable data from America’s gold-standard statistical agencies, were suddenly out of sorts. Tariff tremors, policy-driven supply distortions, and even now a federal shutdown have all disrupted the data we depended on.

Last week, I spent several days in Philadelphia for the Annual Meeting of the National Association for Business Economics (NABE). The event brings together economists from central banks, think tanks, corporations, and universities to assess the state of the global economy. The theme this year was Global Economy in Transition: Finding Opportunity Amid Disruption. Sessions explored the pressures shaping global business and policy: geopolitical instability, shifting trade regimes, monetary divergence, and the disruptive force of technology. There were also discussions of long-term structural issues such as climate risk, labor markets, and the balance of economic power.

As Kent and I highlighted two weeks ago, conventional recession indicators suggest a healthy economy, though recent trends in the labor market for college graduates paint a different picture. We pointed to some appalling anecdotes and statistics, including the case of the Computer Science major who submitted 5,762 job applications, only to hear back from none.

This reality begs the question of whether job creation in the age of AI will ever speed up as individuals, companies, governments, and educational institutions adapt. If so, when?

This Diwali season, I’ve found myself in India, surrounded by the warmth of tradition on the one hand, and a quiet undercurrent of frustration on the other. Gold, long woven into the fabric of celebration here, is suddenly the subject of side-eyes and recalculations at the various malls. Coins, bangles, and necklaces used to arrive without question. Now, they come with hesitation and a not so quiet glance at the market.

After all, at present, the price of gold, in inflation-adjusted terms, is not just high. It is downright abnormal.

Let me be clear: I believe in the promise of AI. As a power user, I rely on multiple foundation models daily to streamline my work and solve problems faster than ever. The productivity is real, the tools are evolving quickly, and the cost per use keeps dropping. Naturally, I want to invest in the future I’m already living. And like many of my colleagues, I’ve tilted my portfolio to give a little extra love to AI-heavy tech stocks. But here’s the thing… I’m also an economist. Which means I’ve seen this movie before. And I know how it ends.

In 2025, if you asked the average economist about the U.S. labor market, the answer might sound reassuring: the unemployment rate is holding steady around 4%, inflation is relatively under control, and job growth continues month after month. But ask a 23-year-old college graduate with a crisp new diploma and a browser full of unanswered job applications, and you’ll hear a different story.

Picture this: you walk into your favorite department store and notice two things at once. First, the racks are heavier with "40% off" tags than you have seen in years. Second, the checkout line feels strangely light, with fewer people and smaller baskets. What’s sad is that this picture may not be all that difficult to imagine…

For professional economists, these signals are not trivial. But for households, they are even more telling. Recessions leave footprints in daily life long before policymakers announce them.

The federal funds rate is not some simple light switch. You cannot flip it down and flood the economy with prosperity, nor crank it up and instantly stamp out inflation. Yet, time and again, politicians sell it that way.

The latest example comes from the President’s aggressive campaign to slash interest rates by as much as three percentage points, to around 1%. The adminstration insists this will supercharge growth, lower mortgage costs, and save the government trillions in debt payments. But there’s a catch: no serious Fed official supports it.