Hank Green recently released a video asking a question that's been on my mind, as so many other folks’ minds, for a while: why hasn't the economy crashed yet?

Seemingly in spite of Trump’s tariffs, national and global political instability, mass economic disruption, and widespread economic anxiety…consumer spending remains strong. As a result, there’s no pull-back in the broader market. The collapse that everyone, myself included, keeps expecting keeps not happening.

In his video, Hank Green offers two explanations for why this would be the case. Explanation one is a combination of factors: AI investment is pumping money into the real economy. Tax cuts for the wealthy, financed through deficit spending, keep demand high. The top 10% of earners, who drive half of all consumer spending, are riding stock market gains and feeling flush enough with cash to keep buying.

Hank also suggested a “darker hypothesis” that barely feels like a hypothesis, and more like a blatant observation: that markets are betting on Trump's willingness to do whatever it takes to prevent economic collapse, even if that means bending democratic norms.

These are strong, logical answers to a complex question. Economics as a discipline is half observation-based guesswork anyway. And in listening to Hank’s take(s), I feel compelled to chime in with my own observation-based guesswork. I think Hank is missing something (not a statement I make often) that may be harder to see or feel from the vantage point of being a financially secure, middle aged, weirdly and wonderfully successful YouTuber.

What I think Hank is not accounting for is the broad economic effect of the quiet, insidious economic nihilism that many Americans are experiencing today. I am not referring to the nihilism that encourages sports betting and meme stock portfolios, which Kyla Scanlon does mention in passing in her interview. Instead, I want to point out the effect of nihilism that encourages spending in order to have luxuries now over saving for the future.

Here is where I see this happening: Our friends who are a nail technician and an auto-mechanic (read, combined household income of $80,000) are going on vacation for several weeks at a time. Our family members who all agree that having kids is untenable in this economy. Our group chats where we share the latest suggestions for “high quality wool sweaters” or whatever new, overpriced Shein clothing we’re all going to buy in unison.

In conversations over drinks and in our meme-filled text message chains, very few people that I know believe the future will be better than the present. Climate anxiety has defined my generation’s upbringing. Political instability feels intractable, or at the very least, likely to result in some amount of social collapse. The traditional milestones of homeownership, stable careers, and retirement seem like holdover philosophies from another generation, unlikely to be relevant to us in fifty years’ time.

Thus – we spend! Not out of a place of financial comfort, but because choosing the “now” is a rational choice when you can’t envision a future that is in your control.

Traditional recession psychology operates on fear. When people sense economic danger, they save. But for that choice to be rational, it must be rooted in the belief that, “If I make the right decisions now, I'll be okay later.” You have to believe that the future is worth protecting and that you have it in your control to protect it.

What we're seeing now is the Stranger-Things-esqe Upside Down of caution-based savings. It's “despair-based spending” – consumption driven not by confidence or denial, but by the belief that saving won't matter anyway. If you don't think you'll ever own a home, why penny-pinch for a down payment? If retirement feels like a joke, why max out your IRA? If the planet might be uninhabitable in fifty years, why not see Paris now?

This inverts the usual economic logic. Instead of spending when we feel secure and saving when we feel scared, we're spending because we feel scared. The anxiety itself becomes the justification, even if it’s hidden behind a layer of “YOLO” and “do it for the plot” language. So many americans are so far from financial security, we’ve come all the way around to the other side of the circle.

For many people, this math actually maths. Saving $300 a month sounds responsible, but when you're trying to accumulate enough for a $50,000 down payment on a $400,000 house, or when you're staring down $80,000 in student debt, those monthly contributions feel like tossing pennies into the ocean. The numbers are so astronomical, the timelines so long, that meaningful progress feels impossible within any human planning horizon.

Or even in the recession psychology mindset. If I can save $300 a month, and I think we’ll enter a recession next year, that gives me twelve months during which I could save… $3,600.00. That’s barely one month of expenses for an average household.

So, we buy the pants. We book the trip. We order the DoorDash. YOLO.

There's another economic principle at play here that is more commonly known: people with less money have to spend a greater share of their income just to survive. When you're living paycheck to paycheck, there's no room for the kind of long-term financial planning that builds wealth. Every dollar is already spoken for between rent, groceries, insurance, debt payments and the other expenses that make living… uh… worth it(?).

And here's where economic nihilism adds an additional layer. When the difference between ending the month with $500 in savings versus $250 is the difference between buying the nice thing or not, a lot of us are choosing the nice thing. Not because we're financially, but because we've done the math on what $250 in savings actually buys us in the long run: basically nothing.

This is, in my opinion, where Hank's analysis, focused on AI investment and wealthy households, misses the plot. Yes, the top 10% are spending because they're rich and getting richer. But the rest of us are spending too, for entirely different reasons. We're spending because we've lost faith in the future.

Social media amplifies this in both directions. On one hand, we're bombarded with the patina of influencers vacationing, live streaming their luxury unboxings, and cheering, "treat yourself!" On the other hand, we're doomscrolling past climate disasters, political chaos, and economic inequality. In other words, “the world is ending, so what's the point?”

These two forces, indulgence and despair, feed on each other. The nihilism justifies the spending, and the spending provides temporary relief from the nihilism. It's a loop, and it's keeping money moving through the economy even as faith in that economy crumbles.

All of this is sharing in the spirit of “Yes, and”-ing Hank's argument. His points about AI investment, deficit spending, and the wealth effect are all valid. Markets are definitely betting that Trump will prop up the economy to protect his own power. The wealthy are absolutely driving consumption because their assets are appreciating.

Underneath all of that, there's a class of folks spending money they don't have on things they don't need because they don't believe in the future they're supposed to be saving for. That's economic nihilism. And it's not just a social problem or a mental health crisis, it has become a macroeconomic force in its own right.

I think that is why the economy hasn't crashed yet. Not because we believe it will get better, but because so many of us have stopped believing it matters.