My Mother used to swirl the tea leaves around the bottom of her teacup. She tried to look for patterns that might help her predict the future. However unlikely this method might appear, throughout history human beings have tried to divine the future. Shamans and Oracles claimed to be able to foresee future events. Astrologers interpret the relationships of celestial bodies like the sun, moon and stars to predict what will happen tomorrow. However, bizarre these methods are, at least they don’t involve sacrificing an animal to predict the future by examining its entrails!
The next couple of months will see a range of people try to predict the future. They will earnestly announce ‘The Top Trends for 2026!’ In fact, here are my top five predictions about what influencer’s will pontificate about (and my guess what will actually happen):
Prediction: “2026 will be the year that procurement finally gets a seat at the top table!” Reality: No, nothing will change
Prediction: “AI will break through and become widely adopted!” Reality: No, AI will not ‘break through’ and the hype cycle will reach the ‘trough of disillusionment’
Prediction: “Category management will finally become the norm!” Reality: Category Plans will feature more AI-generated content (but many will still remain unread)
Prediction: “Everyone will accept that panels are “essential”. Reality: Some panels will have more suppliers than actual engagements.
Prediction: “Procurement will be reinvented as (insert label of your choice)”. Reality: Some stakeholders will still use the term ‘purchasing’
Why are we obsessed with predicting the future?
For most of human history, getting the future wrong could kill you. If you could predict “Animals drink here at dawn” or “That rustle means predator” you were more likely to live, eat and reproduce. So the brain evolved as a prediction machine: it constantly guesses what will happen next and compares that to what actually happens.
Conversely, not knowing what’s coming makes most people uncomfortable. When we can predict something, we feel more in control, even if we are not. Is this why people like to read predictions? Even a bad prediction can feel better than no prediction, because it gives you something to plan around.
And, of course, uncertainty is a driver of anxiety. Having any forecast or story about the future is calming and provides a ‘narrative’ to grasp onto. Stromboli, a volcano in Italy, has been erupting continuously for 2000 years, but when another volcano erupts, journalists still ask vulcanologists, “when will it stop erupting?’ Prediction isn’t just about information. It is about soothing the nervous system.
In work contexts we all need to be ‘singing off the same hymn sheet’. Imagine if key departments in the same organisation have different views about what might happen in the next 6, 12 or 18 months. It would be chaos, wouldn’t it? Even imperfect predictions act as a shared story that lets groups align and act consistently.
Seeing patterns where they don’t exist