DON’T COUNT YOUR CHICKENS BEFORE THEY HATCH
As I have occasionally emphasized in my previous essays, I am going to make a generalization fully aware that it is not particularly scientific that a significant number of people, both in our country and in some other countries around the world, prefer to live not with outcomes that have actually materialized, but with outcomes they hope will materialize.
A politician announces an appealing goal, and we immediately start talking as if those hypothetical goals have already been achieved. An economic program is announced, and we either celebrate as though inflation has already fallen or worry as though it has already risen. A project is unveiled, and before its foundation has even been laid, we begin calculating the prosperity it will supposedly create.
Yet there is a simple proverb, not widely known in Turkey but well established in international literature, that warns us against precisely this tendency:
“Chickens are counted in the fall.”
The English version is even more explicit:
“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”
In other words, don't count the chickens before they come out of the eggs. Or, as we might say in Turkish, “Don't roll up your trousers before you even see the river.”
A farmer plants seeds in his field in the spring. The rain comes, the soil turns green, and the farmer becomes hopeful. But the harvest is still a long way off.
There may be drought.
There may be hail.
Disease may strike.
The yield may fall short of expectations.
That is why an experienced farmer does not look at a green field and immediately fill his granary in his imagination.
He waits for the harvest.
The same principle applies to Turkey's economy.
Economic programs set targets for inflation to fall into the single digits, for growth to accelerate, and for prosperity to increase. If these goals are achieved, it will benefit all of us. But there is a long road between a target and an actual result.
For example, annual consumer inflation stood at 31.51% in August 2026. The year-end projection for 2026 is 28.4%. The point here is not to declare in advance whether that target is right or wrong.
The point is much simpler:
A target is not an achieved result.
Targeting an inflation rate of 28.4% does not mean that inflation is already 28.4%.
The chicken has not hatched yet.
Moreover, the economy does not consist solely of decisions made by governments. Oil prices, exchange rates, wars, foreign trade, agricultural production, and global developments can all change the calculations.
An economic forecast made yesterday may have to be revised today.
That is why the most reliable way to evaluate an economy is not merely to ask, “What was promised?” but also to ask, “What actually happened?”
The same standard should apply to politics.
Before an election, anyone can make promises about the future. Politicians can say they will fix the economy, reform education, strengthen justice, or increase prosperity.
We should listen to these promises.
But then we should wait.
Because an election has not been won until the ballots have been counted.
Announcing a reform does not mean the reform has actually taken place.
Laying the foundation of a factory does not mean production has begun.
Announcing an economic program does not mean people's lives have already changed.
Intention is not a result. A target is not an achievement. A promise is not fulfillment.
Nor is it right to apply this standard only to politicians we dislike.
It is easy to believe the words of a politician we support while doubting everything said by a politician we oppose.
The real challenge is to use the same measure for everyone.
Over the years, I have learned something simple:
It is more important to look at what a person's words become over time than simply to listen to what they say.
The same is true in economics.
It is true in politics.
It is true in academia.
And it is true in everyday life.
A person can say, “I will do this.”
What matters is whether, in the end, they actually do it.
A country can be presented with beautiful visions of the future. Yet the realities that touch people's daily lives are often much quieter.
The price tag at the grocery store is quiet.
The rent agreement is quiet.
The balance in the bank account at the end of the month is quiet.
The young person who finds a job is quiet.
So is the young person who cannot find one.
The retired police officer who, claiming that he can no longer make ends meet, puts a gun to his temple is not quiet...
But all of these realities tell a much more powerful story than political promises ever can.
We can look to the future with hope.
But without confusing hope with reality.
We can value targets.
But we should test them against actual results.
We can listen to politicians.
But we should compare what they said in the past with what they actually did.
Because eventually, we all face the same reality:
“In spring, everyone can predict how many chickens will hatch. But when autumn comes, only life can tell us how many chickens are actually in the coop.”