The Illusion of Recessions

The whispers began with the distant rumble of conflict, a familiar echo in a world accustomed to the rhythm of war. The price of black gold, that viscous lifeblood of modernity, stirred, rising like a phantom from the depths. They say a barrel touched one hundred and twenty, a fleeting moment of excess before settling, reluctantly, to a more reasonable, yet still unsettling, eighty-seven. The analysts, those meticulous scribes of fate, pointed to history, to the post-war years when every spike in energy prices heralded a downturn. A convenient narrative, perhaps, but one that conveniently ignored the fundamental shift that had been brewing for decades.








