A long, long time ago some clever—and no doubt rather hairy soul—picked up a stick and decided that it could be used to do stuff with. Tools, good idea. Some time after that someone else discovered how to make fire. Also good. Then there was the wheel—great, very useful—and later shoes, the internal combustion engine, bikinis, toothpicks, and home theatre. All of these are good and useful things. Unfortunately, if we'd stopped with bikinis, toothpicks, and home theatre, we probably would have been okay.
But we didn't.
Now we have a world that is awash with experts on every conceivable thing from the endlessly shifting debate on whether daycare for children is a good thing or a very bad thing, to the ever growing fungus of new psychiatric diagnosis. There are legions of experts queuing up to tell us what's bad for us, what's wrong with us, and why we should and shouldn't do things.
So why goldfish wisdom? Simple. They sit in their little bowls and they watch us with a steady, uncomplicated gaze. We must all look a bit mad to them as we rush about answering phones, texting our loved ones, and trying to get the damn printer to work.
Goldfish wisdom is the wisdom of simple things, and simple things—at least in my humble opinion—may be the best chance we have.