Virtues of Fatalism; Grapes of Wrath
Market crashes are an inevitable feature of capitalism. To the extent you get involved, to that extent you get burnt when things go south. Anger does no good. It doesn't recover your losses. It doesn't really make you feel better to find a way to direct your anger: it just elevates your BP.
Some time ago, I did the numbers and realised that work as I might, succeed as I might with any combination of personal and public retirement, there was only enough in the kitty to support one person's retirement. I do not expect to be the one person, and when the time grows closer I'll be happy to put my thumb on the scale to ensure that. Also, I see no particular romance in growing old.
My economic reality has a lot to do with my own indifference to the processes of capitalism. It may have as much to do with the inclination of all capitalist employers, everywhere, to lie to and cheat their employees out of every nickel they can, because their millions are more important than the workers' thousands. If thinking that the nickel I earned belongs to me is entitlement, then I am all for entitlement.
Fatalism gives me a serenity that may ensure that I outlive more angry people who expected more from old age than they are likely to get.
When last I looked, our predicament had more to do with $140 million golden parachutes for the Paulsens of the world than it did with some poor schmuck with $1000 a month in Social Security benefits whose idea of entitlement is trying to stay warm in January. I just did the math. A $140 million payout would keep one average entitled Social Security recipient for nearly 12,000 years: buys a lot of heating oil too.