Warren Buffett’s second-greatest gift to investors

Overview

Warren Buffett, the manager of an investment partnership in Omaha, Nebraska, began to buy the shares of Berkshire Hathaway, a struggling manufacturer of textiles based in New Bedford, Massachusetts, in 1962. He gained a controlling interest in the company in 1965 and became its Chairman and Chief Executive Officer in 1970. At the end of 2025, he relinquished the title of CEO; he remains its Chairman and retains his controlling stake.

During Buffett’s tenure, Berkshire grew massively: it currently ranks among America’s top-ten companies by revenue and market capitalisation.

In Naysayers are wrong: You CAN emulate Warren Buffett (9 June 2026), I demonstrated that his greatest legacy to investors – not just professionals, but also normal, everyday “Mums and Dads” – is the applicability of his investment philosophy. Not only can you do many of the things which underpin his astonishing success: most importantly, and to the extent that you possess the virtues which underpin intelligent investment, you already resemble him more than you think (see also How Warren Buffett has trounced “the world’s greatest hedge fund manager,” 10 August 2025). These virtues are courage, curiosity, discipline, humility, independence, patience and scepticism.

In this article, I outline Buffett’s second-greatest legacy: his ability to impart wisdom clearly and simply. Today, this talent is as rare as it is vital.

On 11 May 2025, a columnist in The Financial Times asked: “how is it that so many other financial heavyweights, with so many aides and so many resources, repeatedly fail to produce annual letters that match Buffett’s? ... Why don’t more deploy the brevity, wit and humility that (make) Buffett’s missives so successful?... (The answer, it seems, is that) many do not want to.”

Through his letters to shareholders and Q&A sessions at Berkshire’s AGMs, Buffett has long highlighted his own errors. Candour and honesty foster trust. In contrast, executives of virtually all other corporations deny, hide or rationalise their blunders. Denial and dissimulation create cynicism. Many finance leaders weave complex webs which obscure meaning; Buffett expresses himself plainly and makes complex ideas comprehensible. He strives to educate his shareholders about long-term investing; other executives seek “sugar hits” which boost prices of their companies’ shares over the short-term. 

Most others, in short, erect walls which impede communication; Buffett builds bridges which facilitate it.

That’s part of the answer. More importantly, addled thinking has atrophied the ability of many CEOs to express themselves clearly and frankly. Additionally, and even worse, the fog which constitutes so much of today’s oral and written “communications” is a smokescreen which obscures immoral thoughts and deeds.

Accordingly, even if “heavyweights” in business (and government, universities, etc.) wished to communicate clearly, which many don’t, they can’t.

Buffett’s Clear Prose versus Typical Corporate Sludge

This problem is fundamental, but it’s hardly new. On 30 March 1999, the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission published A Plain English Handbook: How to Create Clear SEC Disclosure Documents. In its Preface, Buffett wrote: “for more than forty years, I’ve studied the documents that public companies file. Too often, I’ve been unable to decipher just what is being said or, worse yet, had to conclude that nothing was being said.”

“There are several possible explanations,” he continued, "as to why I and others sometimes stumble over (ambiguous, vague or just plain baffling prose).

“Maybe we simply don’t have the technical knowledge to grasp what the writer wishes to convey. Or perhaps the writer doesn’t understand what he or she is talking about. In some cases, moreover, I suspect that a less-than-scrupulous issuer (of securities) doesn’t want us to understand a subject it feels legally obligated to touch upon. Perhaps the most common problem, however, is that a well-intentioned and informed writer simply fails to get the message across to an intelligent, interested reader. In that case, stilted jargon and complex constructions are usually the villains.”

If you’re an investor, you’ll know that you always have much to learn. Hence you read insatiably – and multiple times daily you encounter passages which you don’t understand. Is that because you don’t possess the technical or other knowledge required to grasp what you’re reading? Or because the writer doesn’t understand what he’s trying to convey? Doesn’t make the effort to express himself clearly – or doesn’t care if he fails to do so?

Or is it because he’s trying to pull the wool over your eyes?

An Example of “Stilted Jargon and Complex Constructions”

A Plain English Handbook wasn’t the SEC’s first attempt to encourage clear expression. On 14 October 1994, in an article entitled “Buffett Decodes Fund Prospectus,” USA Today reported: “the Securities and Exchange Commission (has warned) mutual funds to write their prospectuses in plain English. To show mutual fund lawyers how to do it, SEC Chairman Arthur Levitt asked Warren Buffett, the legendary investor, ... to rewrite a typical (passage from a) mutual fund prospectus. Here (it is) – and Buffett’s version...”

The Original

“Maturity and duration management decisions are made in the context of an intermediate maturity orientation. The maturity structure of the portfolio is adjusted in the anticipation of cyclical interest rate changes. Such adjustments are not made in an effort to capture short-term, day to day movements in the market, but instead are implemented in anticipation of longer term, secular shifts in the levels of interest rates, i.e., shifts transcending and/or not inherent to the business cycle.

“Adjustments made to shorten portfolio maturity and duration are made to limit capital losses during periods when interest rates are expected to rise. Conversely, adjustments made to lengthen maturation for the portfolio’s maturity and duration strategy lies in analysis of the U.S. and global economies, focusing on levels of real interest rates, monetary and fiscal policy actions and cyclical indicators.”

Buffett’s Version

“We will try to profit by correctly predicting future interest rates. When we have no strong opinion, we will generally hold intermediate-term bonds. But when we expect a major and sustained increase in rates we will concentrate on shorter-term issues. And, conversely, if we expect a major shift to lower rates, we will buy long bonds. We will focus on the big picture and won’t make moves based on short-term considerations.”

Buffett’s rewrite is clear – any intelligent layperson can readily understand it – and considerably shorter (71 versus 136 words) than the original.

Yet clarity and brevity take time and effort. Recall the famous aphorism, generally but perhaps incorrectly attributed to the 18^th century French philosopher, Voltaire, that “I have only made this letter longer because I have not had the time to make it shorter.”

Lucid Prose Presupposes Logical Thought – and a Sincere Desire to Inform

In 1995, speaking to students at the University of North Carolina, Buffett said: “if you understand an idea, you (should be able to) express it so that others can understand it. I find that every year when I write (Berkshire Hathaway’s Annual Report). I hit these blocks. The block isn’t because I’ve run out of words in the dictionary. The block is because I haven’t got (what I want to say) straight in my mind yet. There’s nothing like writing to force you to think and to get your thoughts straight.”

Ernest Hemingway once recounted how he laboriously wrote and rewrote draft after draft in order inexorably to achieve his trademark lean yet muscular prose. Recalling that he revised the first section of A Farewell to Arms(1929) fifty times, he earthily summarised the reality: “the first draft of anything is s**t” (see Ernest Hemingway and Larry Phillips, ed., Ernest Hemingway on Writing, Touchstone Books, 1999).

Reflecting his avuncular and gentle but admirably clear, direct and formidably intelligent style, in his Preface to A Plain English Handbook Buffett offered some simple, charming and valuable words of advice to writers.

He suggested that one “write with a specific person in mind. When writing Berkshire’s annual report, I pretend that I’m talking to my sisters … Though highly intelligent, they are not experts in accounting or finance. They will understand plain English, but jargon may puzzle them.”

“My goal,” Buffett concluded, "is simply to give them the information I would wish them to supply me if our positions were reversed. To succeed, I don’t need to be Shakespeare; I must, though, have a sincere desire to inform. No siblings to write to? Borrow mine: Just begin with Dear Doris and Bertie.”

Investors Beware: Bad Writing Reflects the Vacuity – and Worse – which Pervades Big Organisations

In several ways, Buffett is remarkable: his ethics are exemplary, his long-term results have been phenomenal and his speaking and writing – reflecting his breadth and depth of knowledge, intelligence and desire to inform rather than impress – are invariably insightful, concise and above all clear. His gem in USA Today in 1994 was a specific response to a much more general, perennial and insidious problem – one which, over the intervening decades, certainly hasn’t improved and has likely become worse.

Most notably, in Politics and the English Language Eric Arthur Blair (who wrote under the pseudonym George Orwell) described the condition of The King’s English (and, by extension, its American and other variants). Increasingly, people write NOT in order to inform and enlighten, but to obscure, distract and mislead.

Orwell denounced stale images, imprecise meanings and meaningless words, dead metaphors, flabbiness and abstraction. Burdened with these loads, “the writer either has a meaning and cannot express it, or he inadvertently says something else, or he is almost indifferent as to whether his words mean anything or not.”

“This mixture of vagueness and sheer incompetence is the most marked characteristic of modern English prose.”

This defect has become even more evident since Orwell’s death in 1950. To cite but a handful of countless possible examples: what do company names like Accenture, Corus, Innogy, Invensys and who knows how many others have in common? Each is a large organisation that has succumbed to the indulgent, expensive and pointless fad of creating a nonsensical name that “describes” itself. The adoption of such names is worth millions to “image consultants” and “(re)branding specialists” (whose job descriptions, not surprisingly, are as opaque as the names they devise for their clients).

A change of name means a new logo, a large advertising campaign and – its proponents heroically allege – a fresh “corporate culture.” In exchange for large fees paid to consultants, companies are abandoning clear labels (such as British Steel, Her Majesty’s Post Office and National Power) that plainly tell the world what they do – and are adopting monikers that resonate only in Alice in Wonderland.

It’s a surface manifestation of a deeper affliction: highly paid and status-conscious employees and executives of the typical large organisation, whether in the private or government sector, have mastered the habit of speaking and writing without informing. Worse, they pompously posture without achieving anything positive; still worse, they deceive by uttering mere verbiage.

Worst of all, through their gibberish they enrich themselves, and deceive and impoverish others.

In a reverse of Buffett’s example, Orwell quoted a well-known verse from the Book of Ecclesiastes (9:11): “I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to all of them.”

He then drained the passage’s life blood and replaced it with the embalming fluid of modern (that is, academic, bureaucratic, corporate and political) prose. The result could easily have been written yesterday – and, sadly yet risibly, something very similar – or worse – probably was written yesterday: “objective consideration of contemporary phenomena compels the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account.”

Similar examples cited by Kate Jennings (BOSS, June 2002)caused her to “wonder if business people have formed an unholy alliance with postmodernist literary theorists. The similarities in the tortured syntax and made-up words – verbs as nouns, nouns as verbs – can’t be coincidence.”

The Language of the Living Dead

The target of Orwell’s criticism isn’t the direct and practical language of the farmer or grazier, skilled tradesman or small business owner. The dreary prose he criticises lacks life because its authors (usually academics, government or private sector bureaucrats, management consultants and politicians) are themselves lifeless. 

The ability to write and speak clearly has atrophied because the ability - and even the willingness - to think clearly and act accordingly has waned.

Therefore “when one watches some hack ... mechanically repeating the familiar phrases … one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy: a feeling which suddenly becomes stronger at moments when the light catches the speaker’s spectacles and turns them into blank discs which seem to have no eyes behind them.”

This, Orwell continues, “is not altogether fanciful. A speaker who uses that kind of phraseology has gone some distance towards turning himself into a machine ... Noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved as it would be if he were choosing his words for himself. If the speech he is making is one that he is accustomed to make over and over again, he may be almost unconscious of what he is saying ...”

“And this reduced state of consciousness, if not indispensable, is at any rate favourable to … conformity.”

The Language of Stifling Orthodoxy – and Authoritarian Cant

Above all, Orwell analysed and denounced the use of language as an instrument of the deception of others, self-deception – and, in extreme cases, justification of crimes including mass murder.

The crux of the problem, he observed, is that language “becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts.”

Orwell identified bad habits of expression, described how they deface the language and demonstrated how their repeated and unthinking – and, even worse, deliberate – use can defend the indefensible. “Things like the continuance of British rule in India, the Russian purges and deportations (and) the dropping of atom bombs on Japan can indeed be defended, but only by arguments which are too brutal for most people to face …”

“Political language,” says Orwell, has to consist largely of euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness.” Such language riddles today’s academic, bureaucratic, corporate and journalistic prose.

“Defenceless villages are bombarded from the air, the inhabitants driven out into the countryside, the cattle machine-gunned, the huts set on fire with incendiary bullets: this is called pacification … People are imprisoned for years without trial, or shot in the back of the neck or sent to die of scurvy in Arctic lumber camps: this is called elimination of unreliable elements” (italics in the original).

As an example, Orwell invited his readers to consider a comfortably tenured academic defending Soviet totalitarianism. (Alas, many of these odious creatures existed during the 1930s; their descendants corrupted Western universities during the 1960s and 1970s; and their destructive legacy has pervades campuses over the past generation. See, for example, Alan Charles Kors and Harvey Silverglate, The Shadow University: The Betrayal of Liberty on America’s Campuses, Perennial, 1999, and Roger Kimball, Tenured Radicals: How Politics Has Corrupted Our Higher Education, HarperCollins, 1991).

Orwell writes: “the academic cannot say outright, ‘I believe in killing off your opponents.’” If he did, it’d alert normal people (that is, non-academics) to his evil intentions.

“Probably, therefore, he will say something like this: ‘while freely conceding that the Soviet regime exhibits certain features which the humanitarian may be inclined to deplore, we must ... agree that a certain curtailment of the right to political opposition is an unavoidable concomitant of transitional periods, and that the rigours which the Russian people have been called upon to undergo have been amply justified in the sphere of concrete achievement.’”

Orwell’s retort is as amusing as it is true: “one has to belong to the intelligentsia (in today’s Australia, to be an academic with a Ph.D.) to believe things like that; no ordinary man could be such a fool.”

John Ellis (“Higher Ed Has Become a Threat to America,” The Wall Street Journal, 4 December 2023) goes further: “professors are now predominantly closed-minded, ignorant and stupid enough to believe that Marxism works despite overwhelming historical evidence that it doesn’t.” Morally, parts of most universities have become open sewers. “The biggest threat to our future,” Ellis concludes, “isn’t ... China or the national debt. It is the tyrannical grip that hopelessly corrupt higher education now has on our national life.”

Academics and university administrators, in short, are mostly overpaid, incompetent and malign; specifically, they’re generally destructive, foolish, gutless and hypocritical. Ellis concludes: “If we don’t stop (their tyrannical grip) now, it will eventually destroy the most successful society in world history.”

The Gibberish of “Educated” Fools

During the Great War, wrote Joe Sobran (“Now They Tell Us,” 3 June 2003), C.S. Lewis, a Second Lieutenant in the Somerset Light Infantry in France, overheard a group of American soldiers. He was startled to discover that they casually assumed that the U.S. Army – and the U.S. Government – routinely lied to them. They weren’t the least bit outraged; they simply took it for granted that “their” leaders were incorrigible liars who regarded soldiers’ lives as expendable. 

Perhaps because they were exposing the soldiers to mortal danger, and feared that morale would suffer if soldiers knew the extent of this danger, the army and government didn’t trust the troops enough to tell them the truth. Realising this, the soldiers reciprocated: they didn’t trust their superiors enough to believe what it told them.

Lewis was shocked that the soldiers weren’t shocked. He should have been relieved rather than stunned: it’s far more difficult to bamboozle an infantryman at the front than an academic in the ivory tower.

More specifically, people who have spent a large amount of time in educational institutions (and who almost invariably confuse this time with “education” and therefore regard themselves as “educated”) are far more susceptible to propaganda than people who left school early, got a proper job and live in the real world. Sobran conjectured that since most Americans (and Australians, Britons, Canadians, etc.) now receive high school certificates and attend a post-secondary educational institution, propaganda now influences them more than it did in the past.

People who’ve spent much time in universities flatter themselves that “education” creates a rational and sceptical outlook and hence an immunity to propaganda. In fact, concluded Sobran, its effect is exactly the reverse. It creates “a disposition to settle for fancy words and high-sounding slogans instead of results.”

It’s no accident: from the French Revolution to the horrors of Hitler, Stalin, Mao and Pol Pot, “intellectuals” have figured disproportionately prominently among the leading apologists and blind supporters of dictatorship and state-sanctioned violence (see in particular three books by Thomas Sowell: Intellectuals and Society, Knowledge and Decisions and The Vision of the Anointed: Self-Congratulation as a Basic for Social Policy).

Peter Jones (“Language Barriers,” The Spectator 14 June 2003) concluded that today’s universities are factories that produce babble rather than scepticism and rigidity rather than reason. “Turgid, repetitive, pompous, pretentious bombast is the order of the day … This is precisely what Orwell was (warning) about – not thinking about what is being said but reaching for the pre-packaged words and phrases ...” Decades ago, self-appointed “elites” mocked ordinary Australians’ grammar and accent. Today, it’s the gibberish of “elites” that’s laughable.

Kate Jennings concurs: “paradoxically, we all know that business language is nothing but cuttlefish ink. We don’t expect corporate communications to be composed of anything but illogic, exaggeration, evasion and outright lies ... We don’t want the truth” (italics in the original).

Clear English and Liberty

Perhaps more powerfully than any other writer, Orwell warned that pretentious and vacuous language anaesthetises morality and rationality.“But if thought corrupts language,” he wrote in his dystopian masterpiece, 1984, “language can also corrupt thought.”

His insights trigger an alarm in the brain when, for example, a politician dismisses or repudiates a previous public commitment because it’s now “inoperative” (Kevin Rudd) or is a “non-core promise” (John Howard) or “circumstances have changed” (Anthony Albanese). Armed with Orwell’s warning, such weasel-phrases prompt the listener to wonder whether the politician really intends to say “forget what I promised then and am repudiating now, but believe my new promise which I will also disavow later” or “I didn’t know then and I don’t care now” or simply “I lied then, continue to lie now and will lie in the future; so what?”

Orwell also alerts us that people who embrace Officialese and Corporatespeak usually abandon scepticism and clear thinking and embrace ideological rigidity, blind faith and coercion.

The bastardisation of language begets stultifying conformity. Much academic, corporate, governmental and political writing is execrable because, as propaganda, it renders language practically meaningless; and it’s immensely damaging because it stifles critical thinking and weakens or destroys rational decision-making.

Clear English, Sensible Decision-making and Value Investing

Berkshire Hathaway is presently (1 January 2026) America’s ninth largest (market capitalisation of ca. $US1.1 trillion) corporation. It generates more than $US370 billion of annual revenue, and its subsidiaries employ nearly 400,000 people; but its headquarters in Omaha, Nebraska, which employ fewer than 30 staff, more closely resemble a family business than a behemoth. As Berkshire’s CEO, Buffett’s pay also resembled a small-business owner’s: since the 1980s he took an annual salary of $100,000 (not counting the cost of personal and home security recorded as compensation).

Over 40 years, Buffett’s salary never rose. In current dollars, his pay in 1985 was ca. $300,000 per year; since then, in CPI-adjusted terms it’s therefore DECREASED at a compound rate of ca. 2.75% per year.

Like most small businesspeople, Warren Buffett acts, speaks and writes clearly, honestly, simply and sincerely. “We will be candid in our reporting to you,” he wrote in Berkshire’s Annual Report (1983), “emphasising the pluses and minuses important in appraising business value. Our guideline is to tell you the business facts that we would want to know if our positions were reversed. We owe you no less.” Over the next 40 years, he kept that promise.

“Moreover, as a company with a major communications business (at the time it was a major owner of The Washington Post), it would be inexcusable for us to apply lesser standards of accuracy, balance and incisiveness when reporting on ourselves than we would expect our news people to apply when reporting on others.”

Buffett concluded: “we also believe candour benefits us as managers: the CEO who misleads others in public may eventually mislead himself in private.”

Buffett has heeded Orwell’s warning. “The great enemy of clear language,” Orwell concluded in “Politics and the English Language,” “is insincerity. When there is a gap between one’s real and one’s declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms ... Political language ... is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind ... In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defence of the indefensible.”

Buffett’s clear prose results from straight thinking and a genuine desire to inform; most corporations’ ambiguous, vague and simply meaningless writing reflects laziness, vacuity, the desire to deceive or the unwillingness to speak – and thus face – the truth.

At Last, Some Good News

After “THE END” of 1984, Orwell added an appendix entitled “The Principles of Newspeak.” Some editions omit it; all but a few readers skip it; many don’t even know it exists.

Written from some unspecified point after the events described in the preceding chapters, it suggests that Big Brother was eventually defeated. The victory is attributed not to individual rebels or to The Brotherhood, an anonymous resistance group, but rather to language itself.

The appendix details Oceania’s attempt to replace Oldspeak (English) with Newspeak. “The whole aim of Newspeak is to narrow the range of thought.” It will thereby render dissent “literally impossible, because there will be no words in which to express it.”

But it never happens. The Party’s plans to abolish faith, family, love of children and spouse, laughter, art, literature, curiosity, enterprise, pleasure, etc. – in short, the things that make life worth living – are never achieved because Newspeak fails to displace English.

Why? It proved impossible to translate the literature of Oldspeak into Newspeak. The text Orwell selects to exemplify this fatal difficulty, intriguingly, is the U.S. Declaration of Independence.

The appendix contends that the Declaration’s key ideas cannot be expressed in Newspeak. What are these ideas? Governments derive their legitimacy from the consent of the people. Accordingly, citizens possess the God-given right to criticise, challenge, replace (and, in extremis, John Locke, from whom Thomas Jefferson, the Declaration’s major author, derived the idea, overthrow) any government which loses its legitimacy.

As Thomas Jefferson, the Declaration’s principal author, wrote from Paris to William Stephens Smith (the son-in-law of John Adams, who signed the Declaration, was Ambassador to the UK and became America’s second president) on 13 November 13, 1787 in response to news of Shays’ Rebellion, an armed uprising of debt-ridden farmers in western Massachusetts: “the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure.”

As long as we possess nuanced language and the courage to express it coherently, Orwell concludes, we will retain our freedom of thought and the ability to reason – and dissent.

Conclusions and Implications

Unfortunately, these days the very people who presume to be our ethical superiors are anything but brave. Quite the contrary: they’re abject moral cowards. “It’s unfortunate,” writes Jason Riley (“On Marriage, an Economist Bravely States the Obvious,” The Wall Street Journal, 26 September 2023), “that we’ve reached a point where scaredy-cat social scientists are more interested in being popular than in following the facts, weighing the evidence and reporting the findings.”

That’s more than unfortunate: it’s alarming. Today, there are very few “social scientists” – but countless socialists masquerading as “scientists.”

“What keeps you in good standing in academic (as well as bureaucratic, corporate and journalistic, etc.) circles seemingly has more to do with ... political correctness and less with rigor …”

“Whether the topic is family structure, climate change or the The New York Times’s ‘1619 Project,’” Riley observes, “the intellectual cowardice on display in recent years has been stunning. It’s clear that our intellectual class, like every other special-interest group, has its own agenda and its own blind spots. For too many academic scholars, integrity has become a secondary concern.” Ditto bureaucrats, corporate executives, journalists and politicians.

Hence Orwell’s warning and Buffett’s example and legacy: clear expression isn’t just about candour and coherence, and isn't merely for employees of large organisations: it’s for anybody who strives to write and talk in order to inform rather than to evade; to think straight rather than advance some sterile orthodoxy or authoritarian ideology; and to make better decisions – including investment decisions.

It’s ironic: Warren Buffett is no extremist; yet his desire to inform, and his invariably clear and simple prose, is, in today’s climate, radical. His contrast with other “leaders,” – academic, bureaucratic, corporate and political – couldn’t be greater.

“Public life lately,” observes Barton Swaim (“Lessons in Leadership from the Hebrew Bible,” The Wall Street Journal, 24 November 2023), “seems to consist mainly of self-generated disasters, easily preventable crises and media-driven hysteria ... Leaders behave like spoiled children, outrage the public to no purpose, and loudly champion ideas they know to be infeasible. Worst of all are the decisions apparently calculated to achieve the opposite of their stated goals ...Do our educated VIPs and powerbrokers have the slightest idea what they’re doing? Do they care?”

“Why,” concludes Swaim, “are today’s “decision-makers and their well-heeled defenders making profoundly stupid decisions? Maybe because they (take great care to serve themselves but) don’t much care for the people they pretend to serve.”

Understanding Buffett’s and Orwell’s use of and insights into the English language, and emulating them, provide two immense benefits. Firstly, in Buffett’s words, “you will be amazed at how much smarter your readers will think you have become.”

Secondly, and far more importantly, you’ll realise just how inept, corrupt, grasping, hypocritical, vacuous and untrustworthy– and thus utterly contemptible – most of today’s academic, corporate, cultural, economic, financial, media and political class has long been. 

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