Issue #22

When Currency Forecasters Get It Wrong, Then What?

Trading mostly in dollars, I've learned to judge pundits by how they explain a bad call, not just by the ones they got right.

AI & TechWhen Currency Forecasters Get It Wrong, Then What?

I watch what happens after the prediction fails

Since most of my trades are in dollars, I’m sensitive to exchange rates. So when I hear someone declare flatly that “the dollar’s heading to ₩2,000 (~$1.4)” or that “the won is finished,” I go check the reasoning behind it.

What catches my attention even more is how people react once a forecast misses. In one broadcast I watched, the host explained a market move that contradicted his own prediction as a matter of luck or irrationality. Rather than revisiting which assumption he’d gotten wrong, he simply moved on to predicting the next crisis.

Forecasts can be wrong. But if paid memberships keep selling regardless of how a wrong call gets examined afterward, what exactly are we paying for? I think we owe it to ourselves to watch the explanation after a miss just as closely as we watch the moments they got it right.

The Won-Dollar Rate and the Dollar Index Are Different Measures

When the won-dollar exchange rate falls, it means the won has strengthened against the dollar. But whether that’s mainly driven by changes on the won’s side, or by the dollar weakening broadly against many currencies, is something worth digging into further.

The Dollar Index (DXY) bundles the dollar’s value against six currencies—the euro, yen, pound, and others—into a single number. The won isn’t included in it. So looking at the won-dollar rate alongside the Dollar Index helps you compare the won’s movements against other currencies. The index’s baseline of 100 is set relative to March 1973, not a statement about what the dollar’s “fair value” should be today. ICE explainer

You also can’t explain the exchange rate through American political turmoil alone. The Bank of Korea explained on January 15, 2026 that the won-dollar rate had fallen due to stabilization measures before rising again. Among the reasons it cited for the rise: dollar strength, yen weakness, geopolitical risk, and outbound investment by domestic residents. Bank of Korea monetary policy direction

US tariff policy and political uncertainty are factors worth examining too, but you can’t leave out interest rates, economic indicators, and capital demand. The Fed reviewed employment and inflation conditions and held its policy rate steady on January 28, 2026. The Fed’s policy mandate is maximum employment and price stability—it isn’t a system where a single chair defends the dollar’s price against a president’s demands. Fed statement

Governments and central banks can influence exchange rates. That doesn’t mean they can move them to whatever level they want, whenever they want. So the more confidently an explanation asserts a specific direction, the more I try to check what timeframe and conditions it’s actually assuming.

Both the Crash and the Rebound Need Explaining

Even as I write this, on March 5, 2026, I’m watching a similar scene play out. Domestic stocks fell sharply after the U.S.-Israeli strikes on Iran, and this morning they’re bouncing back again. Korea Ratings’ same-day report put the KOSPI’s March 4 closing price at roughly 5,094, and noted that by 11:30 AM on the 5th, the index was up about 10% from the previous day’s close. Korea Ratings report

Among the bearish forecasts I’ve seen, some emphasized being “right” during the drop, then went quiet or called the market “irrational” once the rebound came. This kind of forecasting is hard to evaluate — it simply excludes any inconvenient move from the story.

Two days of a sharp drop don’t validate a whole long-term bearish thesis. One day of rebound isn’t proof that the risk has passed, either. What matters is checking the original call: by when, how much of a decline was predicted, and on what grounds.

Factors like domestic companies’ earnings and order backlogs deserve separate scrutiny too. If the semiconductor cycle is improving, or shipbuilding and defense orders are picking up, that has to factor into any explanation of stock prices. If every move that contradicts your expectations gets written off as “market madness,” you lose any basis for revising your analysis.

“It will crash eventually” is a claim that resists verification

What I take issue with isn’t a pessimistic outlook itself. It’s the habit of making predictions in a way that can never be checked.

If someone forecasts a sharp downturn and then, when the timing passes, simply says “it just hasn’t happened yet,” when do we ever get to call that a failure? Once a real crash finally arrives, they can claim every past warning was right all along. But that’s not the same as having predicted when the crash would hit or how big it would be.

The same standard should apply to people who keep forecasting an upturn, too. Optimism or pessimism offered without a timeframe or conditions attached is hard to evaluate for how much it actually helped anyone make an investment decision.

This matters even more when leveraged products are being recommended. Because you’re trading a large position on a small margin deposit, getting the direction wrong means larger losses too. Margin requirements and the multiples available vary by product and by timing, so it’s wrong to flatly claim that all FX futures trades run at 30-50x leverage. I believe what needs explaining first isn’t a confident forecast, but the conditions and response plan for when a loss actually occurs.

Why We Only Accept the Information We Want to Believe

Raymond Nickerson conducted a broad review of confirmation bias in a 1998 paper. It refers to the tendency to seek out and interpret evidence in ways that align with beliefs or expectations we already hold. Even when contrary evidence exists, we may not weigh it equally. Nickerson’s paper

Thinking this way helps explain something that happens in the relationship between economic broadcasts and their subscribers. Someone who expects a sharp currency spike would feel reassured hearing the same forecast repeated back to them. If the prediction turns out right, they trust the analyst even more; if it turns out wrong, they can tell themselves the market behaved abnormally. Either way, the original belief survives intact.

The paper’s concept of “belief perseverance” is relevant here too. It’s the phenomenon where a belief persists even after we learn that the grounds for it were flawed. That doesn’t necessarily mean every new piece of contrary evidence makes the belief stronger.

I was floored watching a live broadcast where the host asked, “You trust me, right?” and told viewers to type in a number—and the same number flooded the chat window. It felt less like people were scrutinizing the reasoning behind the analysis and more like they were signaling loyalty. What worries me is a climate where it becomes hard to raise questions or push back.

When money is on the line and the economy feels shaky, people may reach even harder for words that offer certainty. But the feeling of reassurance and the judgment that an explanation is actually accurate are two different things—and they need to be kept separate.

Looking at the fragment, I compared it carefully against the Korean source. The translation is accurate, complete, and maintains the paragraph structure with no omissions, no Hangul, no number mismatches, and no glossary violations. No corrections are needed.

Oswarld’s Lens

I’ve seen the same reaction when working on go-to-market strategy. When a product doesn’t sell, the explanation is often “the market just hasn’t recognized us yet.” Sometimes that’s genuinely true—markets can be slow to respond. But if you stop the explanation there, you lose the chance to ask whether you picked the wrong customers, priced it wrong, or failed to communicate the product’s value.

I trust teams more when they admit failure and describe their next experiment. Whether you’re a founder or an analyst, you need to be able to revise your own judgment. What matters isn’t the fact that you were wrong once—it’s what you changed afterward.

The same goes for economic forecasting. When someone explains which variable they missed, which assumption was wrong, and how they revised their forecast accordingly, that actually gives me more reason to trust them. Conversely, if you blame bad luck every time reality diverges from your prediction, you’re likely to repeat the same mistake.

I think this problem gets more complicated in a paid-membership structure. Continuing to deliver the certainty that existing subscribers want to hear can be more advantageous in the short term than explaining an uncomfortable error. This doesn’t mean membership models themselves are the problem. What I’m warning against is letting subscriber approval replace the standard by which analysis is actually verified.

That’s why I try to look at the full record of someone’s forecasts and how they’ve revised them over time—whether they only resurface the calls they got right, or whether they leave the wrong ones on the record and explain them. I think I need to hold my own analysis to that same standard.

Before you trust someone’s forecast, check one thing: when was the last time that person admitted their own error and changed their analysis?

Your take shapes the next issue

What resonated most in this issue, or where has your experience been different?

Any registered reader can comment for free.

References

The author is Oswarld (Kwangseob Ahn). Current roles: Adjunct Professor at Sejong University, Strategy Consultant at INLEVEL9. Career, research, books, and recent work are kept current on the About page. Latest · July 2026: HEMA-2: A Consolidation-Aware Tri-Memory Architecture with Multi-Channel Scheduling for Lifelong Conversational AI.