Checkers with Chavez

So . . . NBA free agency begins tonight, with the most discussed, highest-rated, most completely overhyped free agent class in history. Never mind that historically, top players stay with their existing team. There is going to be a seismic shift in the NBA starting tonight, if the commentators (who have no actual, you know, information) are right. Which naturally brings up the topic of dictator games.

(Hopefully around this time you are saying "ahhh . . . that's where the title of this post comes from," and possibly "huh? what do dictators have to do with basketball?" The answer to the second reaction is coming. By the way, rejected titles included: Scrabble with Stalin, Monopoly with Mussolini, Mao-jongg, I Spy Idi Amin, Nicolae Ceau-Chess-scu, Pol Pot Limit 'Hold em, Connect Four with Castro, Sorry! with Saddam, Pinochet's Pinochle. Any other suggestions are welcome.)

Dictator games are often used in psychological experiments. The basic setup is such that there is an amount of money to divide between two people. One person, the proposer or dictator, gets to decide how the money will be split. The other person, the responder, gets to accept or reject this division. If the responder accepts, the money is divided based on the proposer's plan. If the responder rejects, neither person gets anything.

From a purely rational perspective, the responder should accept any amount greater than zero, because doing so leaves them better off than otherwise. Knowing this, the proposer should offer as little as possible, so that he gets the most money out of the split.

But people don't behave this way. Responders would rather get nothing than an inequitable split of the cash. And proposers don't short-change the responders, either. Research has shown that if offered less than about 30% of the money, responders reject the deal, and that proposers tend to offer an amount significantly higher than zero. Damn altruistic behaviour, messing up rationality and all.

So what on earth does this have to do with NBA free agency? Well, in the NBA a player can leave his team as a free agent, and the previous team gets nothing in return. Because of this, there are incentives in place to keep a player with his previous team, most notably that he can sign a contract for a maximum of six years (versus 5 years for a previous team), which for a top player can mean an extra $30 million guaranteed money. Because of this, teams have been using what are called "sign-and-trade" deals, where a player signs with his previous team and is immediately traded to the team he actually wants to play for. This way the player gets the absolute maximum amount he can, and the team he's leaving gets a player (or cash, or a future draft selection) in return.

As you can see, there is motivation on both sides for a sign-and-trade. But the team may not want to go along. For example, Chris Bosh is a free agent and is not going to be playing for his previous team, the Toronto Raptors, next season (sorry all you Raptors fans, it's not going to happen). The Raptors are under no obligation to arrange a sign-and-trade, but could benefit from doing so. Bosh definitely benefits from doing so. But looking at dictator games, the Raptors may just say they reject; they would rather go without the compensation to hurt Bosh for leaving, even though they would never have to pay a dime of his higher salary.

(Incidentally, there is an added incentive for teams to do sign-and-trades - by sending the player and his now-longer contract to another team, they are making at least one other team less of a threat to sign free agents in the future, as their salary-cap space is tied up that much longer)

Would a team or general manager engage in the same type of behaviour we see in dictator games? While it's easy to rationalize rejecting the offer to ourselves (that's not fair!) it's more difficult to do so to your boss. And while I don't think that many fans would support Bosh leaving and getting nothing in return (when getting something was an option), I could definitely envision fans saying "screw him, don't let him make the extra money."

Shucks! Just thought of another one - Hoops with Ho Chi Minh.

Replay it Again, Sam

So . . . there's been a lot of discussion in recent weeks about instant replay in sports. This week the hubbub was regarding a goal that was not called a goal in the England-Germany match, about which the German goalkeeper later bragged that he had fooled the referee. Other incidents that have led to the call for greater use of instant replay were a spoiled perfect game in a Major League Baseball when the first-base umpire erroneously called the 27th batter safe at first, and the extensive mis-use of instant replay in the NBA finals.

What it boils down to is how we want to define the parameters of the game. In a sense, it is the same as the best decision/right decision distinction I made last week, but just a little altered. Do we want the absolutely right decision every time (realistically unattainable), or the best decision human judgment, in real time, can provide? Historically leagues have opted for the latter (the reason for which appears to be trepidation that their referees/umpires will be proven to be horrible), but instant replay has made inroads in the NFL and NBA.

The latter provided a comical example in the NBA finals this year. Instant replay in the NBA is allowed only to verify certain judgment calls (e.g. was it a 2 or 3-point shot, was a shot made before time expired, who should retain possession after the ball is out of bounds). In the fourth quarter of game 3 of the finals, the refs used instant replay three times in quick succession. In one of the instances, they could see that a Boston player had fouled a Laker, but couldn't call the foul because foul calls aren't reviewable, and because the foul caused the Laker to tip the ball out of bounds, Boston got possession. So the very tool that was intended to help make correct calls forced the refs to make the absolute wrong one.

Look, if bad calls are part of the game, then that is just subsumed in the notions of winning and losing. If Maradona can knock a ball in with his hand and have it count, it counts, and that's part of the game - it's not cheating. If he had been caught, there would have been a penalty, and that was a risk he took. Ultimately, as I covered a while ago, the winner of the game is not necessarily the best team, they're just the team that happened to have won.

Using instant replay is something I'm all for, but I don't think for a second that it will somehow stop the bending or breaking of the rules. Players will just have to be more creative in how they do it. I disagree with the notion that the player answers to a higher authority, that of sportsmanship or the greater glory of the game. A player is charged with and rewarded for winning the game for his team. If a player does that best by breaking the rules (e.g. a hockey goon like John Kordic, a NBA flopper like Anderson Varejao, or a juicer like Barry Bonds), they still add value to their team. They may be punished, but if they help create wins they are useful. Until there is punishment that outweighs the benefit of cheating, it makes sense to take advantage of shortcomings. Shortcomings like refs who can't possibly see all activity with 100% accuracy.

Gee, G20, Can I Borrow Your Crystal Ball?

So . . . the G20 party is over, the guests have all left, and that that needs to be done now is clean up. And the centrepiece of this meeting of the, uh, minds (?) is that they have agreed to do their goshdarn best to cut deficits by 50% within three years.

Now, I'm no anti-G20 activist or anarchist or what have you (I'm actually pretty unclear on what a lot of the protesters are protesting). But this result is worse than useless. Just like any other international non-binding agreement, it's entire value came and went when it was signed. Because the deficit reduction will not happen, and if it does, it won't be on that timeline.

Why? Because we can't predict that far in advance. Think of everything that has changed in the world in the last three years. Could you predict three years ago where you would be today? Can you predict where you will be three years from now? And you're probably only one person, unless you've got other personalities living in there. I can't predict it, and I can't see how anyone can predict the state of the entire world in 2013. And for that reason, the concensus to cut future budgets is silly.

The only thing I'm moderately certain of is that there will be some major change in the next three years that will derail the plan (and I'm not even certain of that). Besides death and taxes, the only certainty is uncertainty. Add to this the likelihood of placing most of the burden of the budget cuts to the end of the three year period (to defer negative political effects, the necessity of paying interest up front, etc) and the probability of the plan coming to fruition decreases sharply.

But if that's true, you ask, then why plan at all? If no three (or five, or ten) year plan will work, why not just fly by the seat of your pants all the time? I don't think that there's anything wrong with planning or having long-term goals. Just be realistic about it. Like most people, you probably had at least a vague plan for your life at various points. How many of those plans happened?

I'm not saying that we don't follow through on our plans, but our long-term plans change as our circumstances change. We give up some goals and go for others. Situations arise which need immediate action, deferring other plans. So planning in this way, which individuals do, businesses do, governments do, are useful only in giving us a vague map of where we would like to be headed. The value is in creating the plan and prioritizing the goals, not necessarily in following through.

And if you need any more proof that the G20's plan won't ever be implemented, keep this in mind too - most of the leaders who attended the summit will be coming up for reelection before that three year period is up (the Australian Prime Minister actually lost his job the day before the summit!). Some of them will abandon their promise to win the election, and others will lose the election, and we'll have a new crop of leaders to make new three-year plans that will also be scuttled.

Weekend Frivolity

So . . . I thought I would go lighter on the subject matter for my weekend posting this week. Just a little diversion to give you a giggle on your days off.

I really like infomercials, I think that they are an entertainment form all their own. I use them in my advertising course (naturally) to illustrate both the good and the bad. There are the classics (I've fallen and I can't get up, etc.), and then there are more recent ones. I was shown a couple this week that I've included here.

There's my all-time favorites, the Magic Bullet and Bullet Express. If I happen to catch this on TV, I'm watching the whole thing. Just horribly, terribly bad in all respects, but not low-budget. It's surprising that Mick and Mimi (yes, they have names, and I know them) don't get more acting work. But as I've said before, if they gave the video away with the product, I would own a Magic Bullet already.

The now-class Vince Shlomi infomercials, for the ShamWow and the SlapChop (this company is big on mid-word capitals). Apart from his proclivity for hand-to-hand combat with prostitutes, Vince is a master salesman. Obnoxious, but not in a condescending way like Mick and Mimi.

Not an infomercial, but my favorite commercial of all time. I'm still trying to figure out what it is, and what it's just like . . . any ideas? Still, if you're in Montgomery, and need living rooms, bedrooms, or dinettes, or just want to make it a dance, go there.

Speaking of unclear, here's a classic from a few years ago. If someone can work out how you apply it, let me know.

The ones I was shown this week (thanks Becky!): the Hawaii Chair (imagine going into a business meeting and seeing someone sitting on this); the iGallop (going into a business meeting and seeing someone sitting on this!); and the Better Marriage Blanket (stay classy).

Feel free to share your own favorites and please include links! Have a great weekend!

Planning to Be Late

So . . . I'm the type of person who can't stand to be late, and am not very tolerant of others being late. There are always one or two students in each of my classes who can't seem to make it on time - every day they are five minutes late. This behaviour is difficult for me to understand, because to my mind if you're five minutes late every day, then just leave five minutes earlier every day.

As an aside, I have learned over time that every race, ethnicity, nationality, religion, etc. has claimed lateness as their "time". I've heard lateness referred to as arriving on Jewish time, Black time, Chinese time, Trini time, Indian time, student time, Israeli time, New York time, California time, French time, Quebec time, etc. The only exception I can think of is German time, which I think just means "on time," so it's not used as often.

A typical reaction to lateness is that we assume the offender is disrespectful, inconsiderate, or possibly spiteful. While this may be the case sometimes, I think there is a more common explanation than any of these. I'll give you an example.

When I was in high school I once drove from my house to that of my best friend in four minutes. This was a drive that typically took about eight to ten minutes, but on that one occasion I had green lights the whole way, no traffic, just perfect conditions. Would it make sense for me to only leave four minutes to get there on future occasions?

I'm sure most of you would answer no - I can't expect perfect conditions every time. But this is what a lot of people do. They may not leave only four minutes for travel, but they may leave six or seven, because that's how long it should take, as long as there are no unexpected delays. What is ignored in this decision is that things don't behave the way they should. There is generally some reason or another that the drive takes longer. As a result, the latecomers always have an excuse - "I hit every red light," "there was construction on the road," or "I hit a deer and had to strap it to the roof of my car to take it home for dinner."

This is known as the planning fallacy: the fact that we plan for ideal conditions, when ideal conditions rarely exist. If you want to be on time, you have to leave early, just in case. If you don't want to worry about money, don't budget every penny of your income, because there will always be something unexpected that comes up. The frustrating part is that you are trying to plan, but you just aren't considering those things that are out of the ordinary. With causes of lateness (e.g. traffic), because of routines, you should generally be aware of what can slow you down (though people typically only account for routine traffic, not unexpected traffic). With budgeting, it can be far less predictable: for example, you may need to fix your car after that accident that happened when you were driving recklessly to avoid being late.

There is only one way to beat the planning fallacy, which is to leave a buffer. Plan to get somewhere ten minutes early -this way you might be on time. Obviously if there is a major, rare, unexpected problem (the road is closed, your car suddenly stops running, aliens invade), you will still be late, but the rarity of these occurrences will make the the tardiness the exception rather than the rule. By the same token, if your car frequently breaks down, that should be something built into your buffer.

Anyway, if you're an on-time kinda person, realize that someone else's lateness is not because they aren't trying to be punctual, but rather that they fall prey to the planning fallacy (probably - I'm sure there are some people out there who are just jerks about it and/or don't care). I have no doubt that if you frequently point out their consistent lateness and the fallacious reasoning behind it, you won't have to worry about friends being late any longer (or for that matter, having friends).

Bad Movie Choices

So . . . I used to work for a movie theatre company. One of the perks of this job was that I could see as many movies as I wanted - and I did, going to over 100 movies a year in the theatre (plus some more on video). As a result, I saw some really, really bad movies (and a few good ones here and there).

Because I was an "avid" moviegoer (an industry term meaning someone who sees more than 24 movies a year - you know, a film geek), I would typically go see a movie on its opening weekend. And what I found was that there seemed to be some collective knowledge amongst people about which movies were going to be good and which would be bad.

Bear in mind this was in the late 1990's, before the internet exploded and collective knowledge about everything was available constantly. All we had to go on back in my day were movie reviews and trailers, and maybe some buzz in Entertainment Weekly. And yet people seemed to know when a movie was going to suck.

Two examples: Batman & Robin (George Clooney's only foray as the Dark Knight, and a truly awful film) and Speed 2 (which downgraded from Keanu Reeves, if that's possible, to Jason Patric). I saw both on opening weekend (free movies + no girlfriend at the time = bad film choices) and both played to nearly empty theatres.

In hindsight, it makes sense - they are two of the worst films I have ever seen. But there was no reason for audiences to know that in advance. Their predecessors, Batman Forever and Speed, were both very successful films (even if of dubious quality), and that should have generated some buzz and anticipation. How did people know? How was the opening weekend of the First Wives Club (I remind you - free movies) packed full when the film had received virtually no buzz? It went on to become one of the most successful films of the year.

It's not just quality - Twister, Independence Day and more recently Transformers all killed at the box office, but they were popular from the get go. Maybe I'm asking a Tipping Point type question, but the behaviour makes it seem like there was a societal choice for one movie over another. Hindsight being what it is, it's easy to rationlize this behaviour - the movie failed, so it makes sense that the opening weekend was lousy. This can happen, but it can also happen that a movie "opens" (has a large opening-weekend tally) and yet dies out quickly, and a movie can start slowly and build.

But maybe causality flows the other way - a movie happens to catch the attention of the public and has a strong opening, and that increases it's chance of overall success. The movie that doesn't catch that attention has a lower probability of being a hit, and we chalk it up to always having known it would suck. In other words, maybe there's an element of randomness that we then ascribe to a cause.

Yeah, I know, what was I thinking seeing Speed 2. But you would too if you could see all your movies for free.

The Paradox of Outcomes

So . . . a lot of what I do at work has to do with outcomes. I know that this does not make me unique, but as I study outcomes, rather than produce them, I spend a lot of time thinking about the nature of outcomes, how and why they matter, and how they are produced. For example, I teach a course in marketing that utilizes the case method, which means that each session involves making a decision regarding a marketing situation. The students are taught that there is no single right decision - you must make the best decision you can and do your best to sell the idea.

There is a flaw in this thinking that has been bothering me (clearly I focus on big-picture issues that impact the world as a whole). You can make the best decision, but it could still not work out. I do incorporate this idea in my course by emphasizing that the decision that the company in the case ultimately took (most cases are based on real-life situations) is not necessarily the best decision (even things worked out for the best). This is a difficult notion to swallow, because if things worked out well, it must have been the best decision.

I'll illustrate this with a very basic example. Let's say you have three lottery tickets for a draw two days from now. A friend has one lottery ticket for the same draw. He proposes that he swap his one lottery ticket for your three. Would you take his offer?

Most reasonable, rational people would say no - you are reducing your odds of winning by 2/3 (sorry if you said yes, but if you did, let me know, because I'll give you one ticket for three anytime). Refusing the trade is the absolutely, 100% right decision at the time you made it.

But let's say that the draw occurs and none of your three tickets win, but your friend's one ticket does. Now you feel stupid, because you could have won. It would be very difficult to convince you that you made the right decision at this point. This creates a paradox of outcomes, because the same decision is both completely right and completely wrong.

To use terminology suggested by a friend, refusing the trade was the best decision and accepting the trade proved to be the right decision. The problem occurs when we confuse the two, which is very, very frequently done. For example, we are rewarded in life for making the right decisions, not the best decisions. If you make a choice about something at work that pans out, you are a hero. If it fails, you are shunned (a bit extreme, but I'm sure there are some workplaces where shunning occurs, such as in the Amish community).

This is unfair, because whether or not you made the best decision is ignored, and only whether you made the right decision matters. Probabilistically speaking, the best decision will more often result in the right decision, but not always; in blackjack, for example, making only the best decisions gives you approximately a 50% chance of winning. So really, we are rewarding people for chance outcomes most of the time. Not only is this unfair, it is counterproductive, because you are not promoting or retaining the best decision-makers, but rather the lucky ones.

I'll have more to say on this in later posts (I'll bet you can't wait!)0, but I wanted to introduce the idea. I find it tremendously interesting, though I'm sure not everyone does. To put the paradox of outcomes in a nutshell: on one hand, the outcome of a decision has little to no bearing on the quality of the decision, but on the other hand, the outcome is the only thing that matters. Thoughts?

Saturday Night's All Right for Selling Your Pride

So . . . Rush Limbaugh (for those who are unfamiliar, he is a fat blowhard radio host who used to be addicted to drugs - oh, and he makes Fox News look like a bunch of commies) recently got married. Good for him. I'm sure he's happy that all of those gay people can't get married and somehow sully the sanctity of his marriage (his fourth - I guess the previous marriages couldn't survive for a different reason).

But, on this topic, he decided to have Elton John (for those who are unfamiliar, he is a fat singer/pianist who used to be addicted to drugs - and he's really flamboyantly gay) perform at his wedding, which has stirred up some controversy. To me it boils down to two questions:

1. How could Limbaugh hire a performer who clashes so strongly with his views?
2. How could John take the gig?

The first question is one that I have been considering for many years (in general, not this specific case - I'm not clairvoyant, and if I was I think I would try to see more important aspects of the future than this). I remember being asked by a friend in high school how I could like the music of Simon and Garfunkel, because it is all hippie-ish and about peace and stuff. Well, first of all, I am not opposed to peace - I'm sure it would be fine if we ever tried it. But I'm no hippie. So do you need to agree with the politics of the singer to enjoy the song?

I don't think so - I enjoy a wide variety of music that often clashes with my personal beliefs (e.g. Johnny Cash murder songs, gospel music, etc.). Obviously if the music is overbearingly political or message-oriented (Christian rock, white-supramacist music) then I agree that it is impossible to enjoy it, but otherwise, not so much.

Besides, would there be any music act out there that would agree with Rush Limbaugh? Maybe the Christian rockers . . . but I guess he's not a fan.

As for the second question, this is the behaviour that is a little more questionable. Elton John pocketed a cool $1 million for the performance. Sir Elton was quoted as saying that a musician's job was to spread peace and love, and not "cherry-pick our conscience." I don't know - if you're worth hundreds of millions of dollars, you can buy a lot of cherry-pickers. He also said that maybe his presence would change some of the guests' minds. That is just silly - "wow, Tiny Dancer was amazing! Maybe those gays aren't so bad after all."

I could see the benefit if he took the fee and used it for a pro-gay charity, essentially funneling Limbaugh's money into a cause he despises, but I haven't heard that this has happened. So, from the evidence at hand, it seems like the price of Elton John's conscience is a million dollars. Good to know.

According to the song, sorry seems to be the hardest word, but in this case I think it was "no," especially in the face of the payout.

Covering the Green Gap with Window Dressing

So . . . the G8/G20 week of hell in Toronto begins today, and with it comes lots of protests and rallies. This has resulted in the return to a topic covered a little while ago, that of causes. Today I'm going to look at it from a different angle: how intentions turn into actions (or, in most cases, do not).

Leger research recently released a report on the so-called "Green Gap," which examines the difference between peoples attitudes and intentions about environmentally-friendly choices, and the actual choices people make. Not surprisingly, most people think they are very green-conscious and participate in pro-environmental initiatives. The report finds that most people are wrong. A couple of examples:

1. Seven out of ten people claim that they regularly use a refillable container when buying coffee, but observational evidence proves otherwise. Maybe 70% of people own a refillable container, and mean to use it, but you can't pour coffee into an intention.

2. 85% of people believe they are driving fuel-efficient cars. Look around you. Are 85% of the cars out there fuel-efficient? Sure, according to the pamphlets you get at the dealership they are, but in reality? Come on.

The gap between intention and action is only part of the story. The other part (not in the research report) has to do with they type of actions that actually are taken. The city of Toronto decided last year to impose a 5-cent tax on all plastic bags. In other words, whether a store wants to or not, it has to charge 5 cents a bag. This alone is stupid; there are better, more meaningful ways to be socially conscious than to ban plastic bags (this from a city council that also instituted a ban on plastic water bottles on municpal government property). To make things worse, the money that is charged for plastic bags isn't even going anywhere "green"! The retailer just pockets the extra money. Some retailers (e.g. Loblaws) have made a lot of noise about sending that money to help with environmental causes (primarily to justify their charging for bags across Canada, not just in Toronto) but none are under any obligation to use that money for anything but profit. So Mayor David Miller just gave business permission for an-across-the-board price hike. If he were pocketing some of the money it would at least make sense; as it is, it's just dumb.

The difference is between doing things for show (window dressing) and doing things to affect change. Initiatives like the plastic bag tax or the ban on water bottles is window dressing. Bringing a refillable mug to Tim Hortons is window dressing. It might make you feel good, and certainly doesn't do any harm, but it's not going to change the big picture (I know, I know, if everyone did it, but guess what, everyone won't).

To really affect change often requires sacrifice. If you believe that the green movement is a noble cause (which I question, but that's a whole other issue), then do something real about it. Don't drive a car. Don't patronize businesses that pollute. Don't just take an "organic" label as incontrovertible evidence that the company's actions are friendly.

Doing something real takes time (to investigate those companies whose products you buy) and money (because goods and services that aid in a cause tend to be more expensive). I know people who "boycott" U.S. goods but go to Tim Hortons and Laura Secord (the stores, not the people) all the time, despite the fact that both are U.S.-owned. Most of us are not interested in investing these resources, which is fine. But just like in my blog about BP last week I talked about implicit tradeoffs, recognize that you are doing that here.

I'll finish with one last example. In a similar survey a couple of years ago, respondents were asked about their attitudes regarding the environment. As you might expect, more than 80% were deeply concerned about the natural world and humanity's role in its destruction. But at the end of the call, when the interviewer asked for a $100 donation to a green charity, only 17% ponied up the dough. As AC/DC said (and maybe someone else before them, it's possible I guess): money talks, B.S. walks.

Read This (If You Have the Time)

So . . . everyone is busy, running around like a chicken with its head cut off. No one has any time. Stress is rising, people work longer hours, and down time is at its lowest level ever.

So says most people, and so says a study by the Canadian Index of Wellbeing released this week. It’s a well-known fact that time spent together with families has been declining for decades, and as the report puts it, families don’t even have time to eat meals together.

As you may expect, I disagree.

I am somewhat familiar with the trend in time studies over the past little while, and the true story is not as sensational as the newspapers make it out to be. Family time is lower than it used to be, but only because people are choosing to do something else. Let’s take a closer look at the Wellbeing report’s numbers. Here’s how the average Canadian’s time breaks down:

Sleep: 34.6%
Eating and care: 9.6%
Paid work: 16.3%
Unpaid work (housework?): 16.7%

So far we’re up to 77.2%. What do you think the remaining 22.8% comprises? Go on, guess.

Social and sports: 12.4%
TV, etc.: 10.4%

So 22.8% of our time (one-third of our waking hours) is spent socializing, playing sports, and watching TV (and I assume that also includes video games, internet – any screen time). That’s 5 hours a day! It’s hard to claim you’re in a time crunch if you’re watching, on average, 2.5 hours of TV a day. And this is the story of the time-study data that has been going on for decades – people have less time because the time they used to spend relaxing, interacting with family, and enjoying arts and culture has gone to TV.

Obviously this breakdown does not apply to everyone, but as an average it paints a pretty clear picture. We have time, but we choose to spend it in front of a screen. If people aren’t interacting with their families, its because they are prioritizing something else (in some cases work, in some cases socializing, in some cases Mario and Luigi).

I think if most people kept a journal of how they spent their time, they would be surprised by how much time is used up in front of a screen, especially considering that most of us feel very rushed with everything we have to do. And everyone is entitled to watch TV to relax and unwind, but recognize that you are making an implicit choice by doing so, choosing screen time over interpersonal time.

So the next time someone asks you how it’s going, and you say “busy,” think about what you mean. We have all the time in the world, so spend some of it on family instead of Family Guy.

Oil-Covered Cygnets are Not Black Swans

So . . . I’m starting to think that this BP oil spill might be important. All that marine life and all those birds irreparably harmed. And the thousands and thousands of rocks that need cleaning. Only two months in, and the Deepwater Horizon spill has already garnered the hotly-contested title of worst environmental disaster in history.

And don’t get my wrong – despite my glib tone, this is indeed a big deal. Huge. But one thing it’s not is a Black Swan (despite turning many swans black in the process – I kid, I kid).

For an event to be a Black Swan it must be three things: rare, impactful, and unforeseen. This spill meets the first two criteria, but I don’t buy that no one knew that this could happen. In fact, I suspect that everyone (so long as they are not in denial or lying) knew that this was a possibility. And we, collectively as a society, made the decision to drill anyway. I know there was no referendum (in case you were wondering when the vote was) but we loves our oil, and we needed more, so we took a risk.

In any endeavour there is risk. Drilling into the bottom of the ocean for oil carries with it the risk that oil will flow out into the water. So when something goes wrong (which was eventually inevitable), we can’t then claim that this shouldn’t have happened. The fact that a risk existed means that it should have happened, under certain circumstances and over enough time.

Interestingly, the (Republican) governors of the Gulf states all want to resume drilling as soon as possible. Why? Because they get jobs, money, and oil from doing so. They know that another Deepwater Horizon could happen, despite what they may say. But the benefits exceed the risks, in their estimations.

Their bureaucratic cousins in Washington want to investigate allegations that BP “cut corners” in their drilling operation and that they made a tradeoff between safety and cost. Of course they did. I would, you would, the politicians would. That is their job. In hindsight they made the wrong choice (assuming that the leak wouldn’t have happened if there were more safety measures, which we don’t know), but at the time everyone was okay with the choice and it conformed to the law of the land. If those laws are insufficient, change the law; in other words, don’t hate the player, hate the game.

Until we stop requiring oil (which will only happen when it runs out, at which point our society will collapse, and roving gangs of zombies will hunt us for our brains), drilling will continue. And for as long as drilling continues, oil spills will happen. This is the tradeoff, and we are all a part of it. Blaming BP does nothing – they just happened to be the owner of the well that leaked. It could have been any of the other oil companies.

So let’s figure out how to stop the leak before the fish steal all of our precious oil.

Simply the Best

So . . . tonight is game seven of the NBA finals between the Lakers and Celtics. Tonight a champion will be crowned. Tonight we will learn who was the best team of this season. Well . . . maybe. By the way, this is a long-ish post about a topic that I will probably come back to several times.

Is the team that wins the championship the best? This is how it is usually conceptualized. On ESPN's NBA blog they said that the winner of tonight's game will have proven that they are the best team in the world. I disagree. I think they will have proven that they have won the championship, but that is not necessarily the same as being the best.

Let's confine today's discussion to the definition of best as "the team that has the highest probability of winning its contests." There are other ways of defining 'best,' (e.g. most valuable financially, greatest raw number of wins/winning percentage, best positioned for the future, etc.) but we'll leave these aside. When we say that a team is the 'best' we usually mean that they are more likely to win than any potential opponent. This may happen to be the same team that is best under a different definition, and may be the same team as the champion, but I don't think this is always the case.

From a scientific point of view, the playoffs are inferior to the regular season in determining the best primarily because of sample size: in the NBA playoffs, for example, you have somewhere between 16 and 28 playoff games for the two teams in the finals; the regular season is 82 games long. Furthermore, the regular season provides a wider spectrum of opponents and every team plays the same other teams (though not necessarily the same number of times).

Consider a poker tournament, such as the World Series of Poker, that includes thousands of the 'best' poker players in the world. Is the winner of that tournament the best player in the world? I think most people would say no, because there is an element of luck in poker. Luck especially comes into play in an elimination tournament, where one bad hand can end your quest for the championship. A better way of determining who is the best poker player would be to look at performance over a longer time horizon, where luck would have evened out.

But sports aren't about luck, are they? Of course they are. An untimely injury, a bad shooting night, or wind that blows a potential home run into foul territory all can change the outcome of a game or a playoff series. The longer regular season allows for these 'lucky' elements to even out more so than the playoffs.

There exist situations, however, where it is clear that the champion is the best. Consider Michael Phelps, Usain Bolt, and Roger Federer - these are athletes that dominate the competition in their sports. We have decent sample sizes where they almost always win. They are clearly the best in their sport. The 1996 Chicago Bulls and the 2001 Los Angeles Lakers were like this as well - they dominated and their opponents posed little threat.

The NBA championship comes down to one game tonight. Can one game indicate who is best? Is Switzerland a better soccer team than Spain because they beat them yesterday? In 2007 the New England Patriots won every single game they played except one. No one even came close to them that season. But because the game they lost happened to be the Superbowl, they were not champions. I don't think this means they were not the best.

Really, what we have learned during the NBA playoffs is that the two teams remaining are both very good teams and fairly evenly matched. They have each won three games in the series thus far (and split their regular season games 1-1). Tonight's game does not tell us more than what we already know - that they're both good teams.

Our obsession with who is the winner is fairly safe in sports (though from a utility-maximizing perspective, rooting for a sports team is a losing proposition; because the championship carries so much weight, and only one of thirty or so teams wins each year, there is far more negative utility than positive, especially if you're a Knicks fan like me). In other domains, it has more serious consequences. In both of the U.S. elections where Bush Jr. 'won' (ahem, ahem) the vote was extremely close. Because he was declared the winner he (and his party) took this to mean that they had a mandate from the people. A more sensible way of looking at it would be to see that the American people were deeply divided, and that he was leader more because of luck than because the people demanded it (c'mon, don't you think Dubya is capable of nuanced thinking?).

It's important to have a winner; no one will be happy if you just single out a group of teams as being very good. It's also important to decide upon that winner through an unambiguous contest (no BCS shenanigans). But it's equally important to recognize that this winner arrived where it did through a combination of luck and being good enough. Lots of teams and competitors are good enough to succeed. The eventual winner needs that extra luck to end up on top.

Enjoy the game tonight, and may the best team win!

As Milli said, Whatever You Do Don't Put the Blame On You

So . . . apparently malaise over breaking up with his girlfriend caused the English goalkeeper to let in that crap goal by the U.S.A. I was watching on TV, he was obviously distraught. After all, there has to be a good reason for why it happened, right?

In case you can’t tell, I’m being sarcastic. Dude let in a goal. It happens. I have my doubts that it was because he broke up with a girl a month ago. She could have been dancing in a bikini on the sidelines at the time and I would have doubts that she was the cause.

But we have this need, it seems, to ascribe causes to things. The shot was weak, and he didn’t block it, therefore something else must have been going on. I’m sorry, did I miss the part where he never lets any goals in? It happens. Things just happen.

Why can’t we as a species understand that? Why do we always need a reason? There is only one good reason for investigating a cause, and that is to prevent negative events from reoccurring (or conversely, recreating positive events). I know people who, when they get sick, prioritize finding out who made them sick and blaming them. Who exactly does this help? I can see an epidemiologist finding this an area of concern, but not your average Joe. Why not concentrate on doing what you can to feel better rather than finding someone to blame? Unless blaming someone makes you feel better, which would turn conventional medicine on its head, and put Dristan and DayQuil out of business (maybe a new drug that helps you blame could be marketed, something like like FaultRex or Fingerpointing Cold & Sinus).

I read a column recently about the BP oil spill and how energies should be focused on finding a solution to the leak rather than analyzing how it happened and ascribing blame (more on that in another post this week). There’s plenty of time later to analyze. I’ve also heard that people are picketing and protesting at BP stations across the country, which is even funnier (and sad) because the stations aren’t owned by BP, they’re owned by independent small-business owners. You know, people who have absolutely no input into BP policy. But you gotta blame someone, right?

Anyway, I sure hope that they find a new girl for the goalkeeper before the next game. Otherwise, he might let in a goal.

Required 'Roiding

So . . . yesterday the University of Waterloo's football team was banned from competion for one year because nine of the players on the team failed drug tests. That's right, performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs) in Canadian university football. So if any of you sports fans out there still think that there are clean athletes in any competition, I say to you: Canadian university football.

*** Important Note: I name several athletes in this posting. Unless stated otherwise, I have no direct proof that they or anyone else cheated, broke the rules, used PEDs, or otherwise compromised competition. I am making no direct accusations to that end. Here endeth the disclaimer.

Our capacity for denial on this issue is immense. A couple of weeks ago Floyd Landis (cyclist, Tour de France winner who was stripped of his title for doping) finally came clean., He admitted cheating, and claimed that others, including Lance Armstrong, also broke the rules. The reaction was swift - sure that cretin Landis did it, but not our Lance! Where's the proof?

Absence of proof is not proof of absence.

We watch in wonder as athletes increasingly perform feats that amaze, inspire, and astound us. Yet in most other endeavours if someone was so successful, so far beyond what had come before, wouldn't we have at least a modicum of doubt? Usain Bolt breaks the world record by a huge margin, and no one utters the slightest expression of disbelief that he did it legally, despite the long history of Jamaican runners and steroids (and Jamaica is not the only such country - I'm looking at you, Dominican baseball players and cyclists from any country).

The list goes on and on: Michael Phelps, LeBron James, Stephen Strasburg. We want to believe so badly that these athletes are legit that we don't even allow ourselves the ability to question. Shouldn't it be the norm by now (at least in some sports, like baseball), where the assumption is that the player is dirty until proven otherwise? A few years ago I read an article about an up-and-coming baseball player that was hitting them out of the park like no one since Mark McGwire. Yet the article never mentioned steroids. You're comparing a player to McGwire, one of the most egregious juicers ever to play the game, and the word steroids never appears? Come on!

(I know that journalists and newspapers can't cast aspersions without proof, but it goes to show you how much we need heroes that a profile was done in the first place)

Well, if we don't ask the questions we won't be bothered by the answers. But I leave you with this: if nine players on a Canadian university football team (players who most likely will never sniff the professional leagues, even the CFL) that went 3-5 on its season were users, what does that say about athletes who are actually successful? The rewards far outweigh the costs to them. They have access to better, less detectable drugs. The leagues are not motivated to really hunt down the users because they don't want to know what's going on. So it is up to the fans to ask.

Ask questions like:

1. An Oakville doctor was caught with a bag full of PEDs and has a client list that includes Tiger Woods, one of the most successful golfers in history. Good thing he had that sex scandal to distract us from this.

2. Kevin Garnett of the Boston Celtics is old (by NBA standards) and had a knee injury last year that a lot of people thought ended his career. He's now back, and is a top performer on a team that might win the NBA finals tonight. Yay!

3. Ken Griffey Jr. retired recently, and he is the poster child for "players who were robbed of a greater legacy by the steroid era." Um . . . how do we know he didn't use steroids?

I'm not saying that I know that every athlete is a filthy, cheating liar; I'm just willing to wonder. Moralizing about whether PEDs should be banned or not is the topic for a different post. All I'm saying here is to doubt.

Or, if you prefer, you can choose to believe that only losing Canadian football players use steroids, but those world-class athletes, they're clean.

Just Another Meatless Monday

So . . . I heard about this Meatless Monday fad yesterday, and thought I'd write about it today (it seemed fitting enough). I'm not going to go into what I think about the idea, though those who know me (or read this blog, for example this post) could probably figure out whether or not I will be participating.

What I would like to discuss is whether this endeavour will be successful in reaching its (fairly vague) goals. The website for the Meatless Monday movement claims that going meatless one day per week (alliteratively Monday) will "improve personal health and the health of our planet." Because, according to them, eating red meat is unhealthy and the production of red meat coincides with a lot of buzzwords of the green movement, cutting red meat consumption by 15% will go far to making our world a utopia.

My first thought is that this should work, at least in comparison to a less-specific plan such as "I will eat less meat." By scheduling the non-meat consumption day, a person is far more likely to stick to it; we tend to be poor judges when it comes to general goals (e.g. I will try to work out more). It is easy to rationalize our behaviour and not achieve our goals if we don't have parameters.

On the other hand, people also overcompensate when it comes to stuff like this. For example, if you begin a new exercise regimen, you may feel as though you have earned the right to more calories (well, I did walk across the street to Baskin-Robbins, give me a sundae! And because it's not Monday, put some meat on it!). What often happens, though, is that you consume more calories than you burned. So with a program like Meatless Monday, you may overindulge on other days because you are doing something virtuous by "sacrificing" on Monday, and therefore have earned the right to some vice (like eating a KFC Double Down on Tuesday, for breakfast).

Furthermore, the benefits (to the participants and the planet) are sketchy. Looking at the "Why Go Meatless" section of the website, they explain benefits of not eating red meat at all, not just lowering consumption. It is naive scientism to believe that these benefits accrue simply by reducing, as these correlations may not be linear. In other words, it may be that replacing meat with nuts reduces the incidence of heart disease by about 20%, but that doesn't mean that cutting half the meat out of your diet will reduce it by 10%. You may need to remove all, or almost all, of the meat in your diet to get any benefit.

(An example of this in another context is class sizes. People think that lowering class sizes results in better performance for students, but this benefit only appears once the class size is about 15 students or less. In other words, there isn't much difference in performance between a class size of 18 students and 28, but a big difference between 18 and 13.)

The last point I would make about this is the "saving the planet" part. Now, I understand that if everyone stopped eating meat that meat production would drop. But it is wrong to say that if meat consumption dropped by 15% that production would drop by 15%. A more likely result is that a reduction in purchase would lower prices. This price drop would, you guessed it, spur greater purchase of meat, thereby equalizing production about where it is now. I'm not saying don't participate in Meatless Monday - go ahead and eat soy at the beginning of the week if you want. I just have doubts about the overall effects of such a program.

Now someone get me a burger, I'm starvin'!

Ads Add

So . . . like most people, for the past while I have been watching television mostly commercial-free, either on DVD or recorded and we fast-forward through the ads. This is because I, like most of you, believe that the ads detract from my enjoyment of the tv-watching experience (except for Two and Half Men, because when the enjoyment is zero, there is no ability to detract).

But a research study published in the Journal of Consumer Research has shown that people actually enjoy watching television more when there are ads. Without getting into the technical details of what they did, they had two groups of people each watch an episode of "Taxi," one with commercial interruptions and one without. They then asked the viewers to rate how enjoyable the experience was, and those who were forced to watch commercials actually liked the show better (but not the commercials themselves).

Just goes to show that we don't actually know what we'll enjoy, because pretty much everyone (including participants in a related study) would expect they like the shows better without the ads. It may be that our (perceived) dislike for ads causes us to remove them (when possible), even though this diminish the enjoyment we get from the show.

Now, I would suggest to you that you try this for yourself and watch a show without skipping the commercials, but it would be to no avail. Your confirmation bias will kick in and you'll enjoy it less with the ads, because you're thinking about it too much. After all, you probably had the same reaction I did when I first heard about this study - that this may be so for most people, but not for me! I enjoy it more without the ads. I just know I do. Don't I?

Gotta go - Two and a Half Men is on.

Proof of Ignorance

So . . . one of my least favorite expressions in the common vernacular is "the exception that proves the rule." First of all, the expression is almost always used to mean the opposite of what is intended (more on that later), but mostly because it just doesn't make any damn sense.

If there is an exception to a rule, it is not a rule! Seems simple enough. Using a (now overused, thanks to brilliant author Nassim Nicholas Taleb) example, if the rule is "all swans are white," then an exception (a black swan) does not prove the rule, it disproves it. Not to get all Popperian (that's Sir Karl Raimund Popper the philosopher and professor, not John Popper the musician and gastric bypass patient, or Popcorn Popper, the provider of delicious snacks), but once an exception to a rule has been found, it is no longer a rule. Rules do not need an instance of disconfirmation to make them valid.

People tend to (mis-)use this expression when disconfirmatory evidence is found, rather than take the evidence as disconfirmation of the original thought. For example, if someone believes that all Michael Bay movies are good, and then sees Transformers, they may say that this is the exception that proves the rule (I know, I could have substituted any Michael Bay movie title there), rather than taking it is evidence that a) not all Michael Bay movies are good and b) they have horrible taste in movies.

Most maddening is that most people don't even know what this expression means. The word "prove" in the expression does not mean "confirm" or "support," but rather "test." In other words, it is the exception that tests the rule. This makes oh-so-much more sense, as an exception to a rule will test its validity. An exception may also provide evidence of a related rule, such as in this example: A sign says that Shrek 3 is sold out, so by extension, the other films at the cinema are not sold out ("Gee, I wonder if there is a Michael Bay movie I can see instead?"). So if you go to the movies expecting no movies to be sold out, and an exception is found, you at once disprove your original rule and replace it with another.

The word prove has the same meaning in another misunderstood expression, "the proof is in the pudding." The correct expression is "the proof of the pudding is in the tasting." In other words, we test or evaluate the pudding by tasting it. Keep in mind that this is an English (U.K.) expression, so they aren't actually talking about delectable chocolate or butterscotch pudding, but rather something like spotted dick (made of made of raisins and raw fat from beef or mutton - but don't worry, it's served with custard) or black pudding (made of blood and oatmeal). If this sounds appetizing, perhaps you can be the exception that proves the pudding.

Happy proving!

Rebel Without a Cause

So . . . I'm no humanitarian (finally, a statement in my blog that no one will disagree with!). After all, humanitarianism likely clashes with my stated misanthropy (humanitarianism = red, misanthropy = fuschia).

But humanitarian efforts such as charities, volunteering, etc. do interest me. What is most interesting to me about such causes is that everyone, it seems, focuses on a different problem that needs to be solved.

When I was in high school a charity came to make a pitch to us (and this was one of the only times this happened, which made it stand out even more) for their cause. What they were promoting was that they provide beds for those who did not have them. Now, I have never had to deal with surviving in a developing or undeveloped nation, but I would think that beds, while important, would be a lower priority than other things (e.g. food, shelter, not being enslaved by a corrupt regime etc.). But this charity maintained that "any positive day has to begin with a good night's sleep."

This made me wonder about people and the causes they choose. It seems that whatever cause is being promoted is the most important one in the world. This is a very simplistic and shuttered view of the world, as there can not be one sole cause that is important. There are many worthy causes that people devote time and effort to (eradicating disease, feeding the hungry, etc.). There are other, less worthy causes (beds, stopping the sale of bottled water in city owned property, saving the endangered spotted whatever).

Yesterday a conservation group complained that the new windfarm near Kingston, Ontario was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of birds and bats. So on the one hand, we have wind power being implemented, which makes some people happy; on the other, wildlife is being killed, angering other people. Perfection is not attainable, so we have to prioritize one cause over the other. Those who know me are well aware that I am not an congregant in the church of environmentalism, but a non-polluting, inexpensive energy source trumps the rights of a few hundred animals.

This leads to the creation of guidelines for prioritizing causes, and some I subscribe to are people over animals (would the birds and bats remove their wind turbines if people were flying into them? I think not); now over later (use charitable funds to solve real current problems instead of potential future ones); and me and mine over other people (sounds bad, but everyone does it - people are more likely to get involved in finding a cure for a disease after they or someone they know contracts it). I would like to know the set of priorities of someone who believes that one of the most important things we can do is turn off our lights for an hour each March.

What I would ask, though, is don't pretend that the cause you stand for or support is the only important one. It isn't. And some are more important than others. Remember - you can't eat a bed.

Mule or Jackass?

So . . . I was eventually going to write about outcomes and how they affect decision-making and our evaluations of decisions. I had originally intended to do this in the context of sports (and probably still will) but an article I read in today's Globe and Mail proved to be the perfect vehicle. This guy in Vancouver was struggling with his new business and decided to become a mule for pot dealers. He was arrested trying to cross into the U.S. with 15 kilos of marijuana in his backpack. Yes, I know, dumbass move. What caught my attention, however, was the following quote:

"When they gave me the backpack, I knew I'd made a mistake, but by that point I was in too deep and had to commit to it. I didn't know who else was involved or how serious of a nature these people were.”

Now I don't know this guy Neary, have never met him, and likely never will. But I think he's lying, to us and to himself. I think that he knew he'd made a mistake, but not when he got the backpack - I think it happened when he got caught. Because you know what? If he knew he'd made a mistake when he got the backpack, he would have turned back (and suffered the consequences from the others who were 'serious in nature'). I also think he knew he might be making a mistake when he signed up for this job. After all, what did he expect when he agreed to smuggle illegal drugs? Kittens and grandmas?

I think that he (like most people) has a problem with outcomes and decision-making. Specifically he (and we) tend to retrospectively judge decisions by their outcomes, when the outcome information is not known at the time we make the decision. We use this information naively to form beliefs about the world and our lives.

Let's engage in a counterfactual. Let's say Neary didn't get caught. Would he have still 'known he made a mistake?' I think not. I think he would have had misgivings all along and been nervous, but if the mission had been a success he would have even possibly done it again. The misgivings he had became the knowledge of his mistake only when he got caught. Even if successful, would ten grand have saved his business, or just helped it limp along a little while longer? In other words, what was the long-term upside?

There are other indications in the story that Neary has an outcome problem. He was a successful Telus executive credited (at least partly) with their successful animal-themed ad campaign, and parlayed this success into founding his own firm. He took the outcome of a successful ad campaign and inferred from it that he was capable of running his own advertising firm. He ignored other considerations (e.g. others were involved in creating the campaign, luck, timing, competitive actions, etc.) that may have caused this outcome.

Then, when his ad firm was failing, he "worked 400% harder." This means that he took the outcome of his firm's failure and formed the opinion that it was caused by factors within his control, namely effort. Businesses fail all the time, and some are run by smart, diligent people. It just happens (luck, outside factors). Maybe he wasn't that great an advertiser to begin with, or maybe he was and had bad timing (his firm was launched shortly before the recent economic downturn). The point is that the outcome is not necessarily indicative of his skill or effort or judgment, but could be due to factors outside of his control or awareness. He took a risk (entrepreneurship) and it did not pan out. As a result, he took a bigger risk (smuggling) and it did not pan out either. But the fact remains that he took these risks with at least the potential negative outcomes available for him to consider (whether he did or not is unknown).

As an outsider evaluating someone else's decisions, it is easy to 'know better.' With the benefit of hindsight no one would make decisions that result in negative outcomes. I don't fault Neary for starting his own ad firm - without entrepreneurs taking risks we would not have an economy. I do fault him for trying to support his business with mule money, because a simple probabilistic cost-benefit analysis would have shown this was a bad bet.

Guilt of Admission

So . . . working in a university provides me with lots of mental fodder for how we can be better educating our young (and not-so-young) people. And it has been clear (to me, as well as others) that our current university system is severly flawed.

I'm not going to go into all of the reasons why this is, or even the most-talked-about reason (people whose primary goal is specific research into largely esoteric topics teaching general theory and knowledge to people who need practical skills). Today I'm going to discuss how students are admitted into university and progress through.

As I've mentioned before (and will again), people are horrible predictors. We cannot accurately foretell what we will be doing in the near future, let alone others. But our entire post-secondary education system is predicated on prediction. In the admissions process, we heavily weight past scholastic achievement, and somewhat include other factors (e.g. extracurriculars, community-mindedness, etc.) and expect that this is predictive of future success. It may be predictive of future academic success (but even that is doubtful), but certainly not post-university success.

There are two other factors that further complicate the matter. One is that we expect people at the age of seventeen/eighteen (or thereabouts) to be able to decide what their future path looks like, career-wise (prediction again!) and choose a university major accordingly. In Canada, at least (probably elsewhere too), university has become an extension of high school - pretty much everyone goes, even if you don't know what you want to do with your life.

The other complicating factor is that hardly anyone fails out of university. It happens, but it is difficult - you really have to try to fail. So this all adds up to a situation where you have kids who don't know why they are there, staying there, when a lot of them should not have been admitted in the first place. I failed a student this year who was in the last semester of her degree, and there is no way she should have made it that far - she could not even speak English (which is not a character flaw, but is a requirement for success at an English-language university).

My solution? Simple. Admit more students. Let everyone come who wants to. But make it challenging. Any student who can't hack it fails out. Instead of predicting up front who will be successful and then being forced to keep them (more or less), start with everyone and only keep those who show they are capable. You want to be a doctor? Come to medical school. If you fail to meet the requirements, you're out. This would also address the motivation problem - if someone is there 'just cuz,' they are less likely to stay.

A couple of details to defuse potential questions:

1. A failure should not be based on only one (or even two) failed assignments/tests - it should be based on at least a block of courses or a semester. As a believer in the role of randomness, it is possible that a student could do poorly on a quiz or two, and this should not be cause for expulsion.

2. This system would probably result in huge first-year classes, especially in some subjects. Furthermore, it may encourage people who have failed to keep trying different schools or topics until they succeed. The solution for this is two-fold. First, if a student tries a topic and fails, he or she cannot try that topic again, at that school or anywhere else. Second, tuition fees could be skewed such that first year is the most expensive, and it becomes cheaper as the student progresses (or even becomes free in later years, subsidized by the first-year failures). This will pay for the system and keep cohort sizes reasonable, and have the added bonus of providing motivation for success as well as ensuring that students do not enrol unless they are serious (or have deep pockets, or have rich parents who don't care about results).

Ultimately all I am suggesting is that we evaluate students based on how they fare with regard to the topic they are learning at university, rather than based on how they did before they even got there. Less prediction, more results.

So who's up for overhauling a centuries-old institution?

Dining in the Infinite Void

So . . . my wife surprised me by taking me out to dinner this weekend (in honour of my recent birthday) to O. Noir, a restaurant that provides the unique experience of dining in pitch blackness. This is not just mood lighting - this is no lighting, and the blocking off of any potential light. The servers are all blind people (an article I read said that the owners thought it would be easier to train the blind to wait tables than to train wait staff to maneuver in the dark - more on my opinion of that later) and you literally cannot see your hand in front of your face.

I was very excited to be going, as I had heard about this place some time ago and thought it would be an interesting way to eat. And it was. The darkness didn't disappoint, but other elements did.

You get there, and they take your whole dinner order (including dessert) at the bar before being led into the dining room (by your blind server, with your hand on the shoulder of the person in front of you). You are instructed not to stand up, move around, etc. Plus, you are asked to turn off your cell phone and no photography (I thought that an instruction of 'no flash photography' would be sufficient - if someone wants a picture of the darkness, they can get it). If you need to step out to use the washroom or anything else, you yell out your server's name (ours was Diana) and they come to guide you out.

Now, it bears mentioning at this point that most of the negative comments I have stem from one source (I think - as this is a blog mostly about uncertainty, maybe I have the causes wrong), that being the group of 12 drunken partygoers in our dining room (there seemed to be several - at least 5 - small dining rooms). Not only were they loud, obnoxious, drunk, and annoying, but they also monopolized our server's time. This is where a more experience server may have helped - Diana seemed a bit overwhelmed at times and deprioritized us and the other 2 (I think - couldn't see who else was there) smaller parties.

One thing we were wondering though, is whether the party (it was a surprise party - which is neat if you think about it, because you can't easily tell who is there) would have seemed as loud if we weren't in the dark. Maybe it was that our sense of hearing was heightened (though I think it takes more than a couple of hours of blindness for that to happen), or that they were louder because they could not tell if they were being heard, or maybe they were just jerks.

The food was good, can't say much about the presentation or decor. I had a salad to start, then a steak, then cake and ice cream (no candle on the cake). All of the food arrived relatively bite-sized, and I just dug in with my fingers. I could identify everything except one vegetable that I'm still not sure what it was. The steak was good - if I had seen it I suspect I would have thought it underdone (very soft filet) but blind I just gave it a shot. All in all I had a good time, would have been better if it were a little quieter. Another service issue was that they do two specific seating times, rather than staggered times, so everyone wants the same things at the same times (including to pay - there was a long line to settle bills at the bar).

Good place to take a blind date, assuming you really just want to get to know the personality of the other person.

Mmmm . . . assassination

So . . . I thought I would give a little morsel for thought this Sunday. I have noticed a strange quirk in my behaviour (only one?) that made me wonder if everyone is susceptible to this or just me.

It seems that whenever I notice a product that is branded with certain things (e.g. Star Wars, Simpsons) I give it special attention and consider buying it when I otherwise wouldn't. So a regular video game - mostly likely not interested. Simpsons video game? Why not? So what if I haven't even watched an episode of the Simpsons in 10 years?

Star Wars elicits the same response, despite the fact that the more recent films cheapened the franchise for me. Am I just a victim of good branding, or is there something else going on? Do any of you experience the same thing?

What it reminds me of most is the connection between J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye and murder. This is more or less a fallacy; it is often noted that Mark David Chapman (who killed John Lennon) and John Hinckley (who tried to kill Reagan), amongst other murderers/would-be murderers owned The Catcher in the Rye and were influenced by it, and therefore there is something about the book that inspires (or at least speaks to) criminals. I call this a fallacy because a) not all murderers are affected by this book, in fact only a small proportion of them who happen to be well-publicized, and b) not all people who read this book become murderers. This is/was a very popular book and 'speaks to' a lot of people (hence the popularity of the name "Holden"), so it is natural that at least a few killers would be among that group. If ownership of a book is a grouping variables for scofflaws, then we should consider the Da Vinci Code in that group - millions own it, and I'll bet some of them are criminals (not to mention the criminal awfulness of the book).

Getting back to my central point after a lengthy digression, there is a movie called Conspiracy Theory starring that notorious drunk and Jew-hater Mel Gibson, in his pre-arrest days. He plays a brainwashed pawn of the CIA in the film and as part of his re-manufactured psyche he compulsively buys copies of, you guessed it, The Catcher in the Rye (sort of a riff on the book's place in assassination history). So I'm wondering if my compulsion to acquire Simpsons and Star Wars merchandise or products is based on this same type of brainwashing, or if it's just the kid inside of me trying to maintain my youth, or something else.

Hopefully in 20 years we won't be thinking that all assassins were inspired by Luke Skywalker somehow (though I could justify murder in the name of Anakin, if it were of Hayden Christensen).

Some Solace for Celtics Supporters?

So . . . one of the topics I had intended to include in this blog was sports, and this is the first what will probably be many postings in this area. I have two other specific ideas about sports that I want to write about, and had planned to write about one of these today, but the Lakers winning game one of the NBA finals caused me to change direction.

(If you have no interest in sports you probably won't find this that interesting either. It has more to do with probability and expectations (and uses sports as a context), but I betting there are more people interested in sports than probability and expectation. So for the one or two of you out there interested in both, here you go.)

I changed topic, you see, because Phil Jackson (head coach of the Lakers) is 47-0 in playoff series when his team wins the first game. Which caused a lot of discussion on basketball websites yesterday, as this stat was taken to mean that if the Lakers won the first game, they would win the series. I take issue with this, despite the seemingly compelling statistic. Lets take a closer look.

Phil Jackson has been a very successful head coach (maybe because he is good at it, or maybe he is lucky, to be discussed a different day). By the metric of championships, he is the most successful in NBA history (10 NBA titles as head coach). He has coached in 62 postseason series (53-9 record), which means that if he is 47-0 when his team wins the first game, he must be 6-9 when his team loses the first game. Clearly this is a person who wins more than he loses in general. So right off the bat, he is more likely to win a playoff series than lose it, based on his record.

Second, I would argue (and have to argue, because I don't have the stats handy) that any team that wins the first game of a series is more likely to win the series. Mathematically this just makes sense - that team now needs to win only 3 of the remaining 6 games, while the opposing team must win 4 of 6. It is also arguable that, on average, the better team (with 'better' to be defined in a post on another day) will win the first game (and the series) more often.

Furthermore, the team that performs better in the regular season has home-court advantage, which has been shown in research studies to actually give an advantage to the home team (mostly having to do with the love/hate from the crowd affecting testosterone). So what we have so far is:

1. The team that has the better regular season record (thereby more probable to win) has home-court advantage in the first game.
2. Home-court advantage increases this probability of winning this first game.
3. This 'better' team also has an increased probability of winning the entire series.
4. Winning the first game further increases these odds.

We have four factors all favoring the team that wins the first game (except in situations where the visiting team wins, then there are two factors) in terms of winning the series.

But what does this have to do with our friend Phil? I mean, an probabilistic advantage is one thing, but a perfect record is another. Clearly, the Lakers must be destined to win it all!

Not necessarily, say I. Do the Lakers have a greater chance of winning the series? Sure, but they probably did before last night's game was even played, because they had a better regular-season record and have home-court advantage. But if I were a betting man, I would probably bet against them today, because it would be easy to find someone to give me ridiculous odds based on Phil's record.

Hey, baby, what's your sign?

So . . . today is my birthday, which anyone reading this blog would know because I tend to make a moderately big deal of it (plus, anyone reading this blog is almost certainly someone who knows me personally, so I would have beat you over the head with the fact that it's my special day). Which brings up the topic of astrology.

Astrology, frankly, is a load of crap. Most people know this, though some people delude themselves into thinking they know this and then go checking their horoscope anyway. I have actually heard somewhat intelligent people try to defend a scientific basis for astrology, and I ain't buying it. There is, however, a scientific basis for why some people buy it.

A common criticism of these prognostications is that everyone is lumped into one of 12 categories, and 1/12 of all people aren't going to have the same thing happen to them. I take the opposite view - I think that 100% of people are going to have the 'same thing' happen to them, because the predictions are vague enough to apply to anything. For example, here is my "if today is your birthday" horoscope (because today is in fact my birthday):

"There is something you would like to do but are reluctant to get started because you fear that others might not approve. That’s just an excuse and you know it. It’s really your own fear that is holding you back. It’s now or never. "

Tell me, is there anyone out there to whom this wouldn't apply? Add to this the fact that horoscopes are published every day and you get a serious confirmation bias. If a horoscope says (as my Gemini horoscope says today) that my life will soon be turned upside down in a positive way, and it happens, presto! They predicted correctly (note they didn't say when it would happen, just 'soon'). If it doesn't happen, I forget about it because I get another prediction tomorrow, and I guarantee it won't be along the lines of "you will wait for yesterday's horoscope to come true."

On the same note, the personality-trait side of astrology is also bunk. I am a Gemini, which supposedly means I have a (non-schitzoid) split personality. Really? There's more than one side to my personality? What a shocker! Good thing it's only Geminis that exhibit that trait. Astrological traits of various signs such as stubbornness, gullibility, fairness, crabbiness; all of these apply to everyone at some point or another.

Well, at least astrology did give us a hackneyed pick-up line.

Have a happy Eric's birthday!

A Rose Would Smell As Sweet, But the Apple's Rotten

So . . . as some of you may know, we're expecting a child in just a few weeks (well, because at the time of this writing I'm pretty sure my only reader is my wife, my entire audience is already well aware of this). Which brings up the topic of baby names.

Baby names are one of the more agonizing decisions pre-child-arrival, especially when I'm involved. I have a habit of suggesting a litany of names, few of which I actually would want to name a child of mine. I'm actually quite insufferable to be around while doing this. But still, people tend to put a lot of thought into the name they give their child. I'm here to tell you that it probably doesn't matter.

Think about it. Your child is going to be who they are regardless of the name that you give them (with an exception described below). It's not as if Bill Gates, Brad Pitt or Denzel Washington were going to be less successful if they were named Mike or Bob or Gary (but perhaps if they were named Pearly, Arm, or Seattle, respectively). Would you be a different person if you were named something else?

And enough with the meanings already - my name means "ever powerful, ever ruler," which I like, but I'm still not ruling anything. Most names mean something nice, or at least pleasant. Dispel the notion that you have to wait to 'meet' the baby before giving him or her a name - anyone who has been around a newborn knows that a) their adult personality has yet to emerge and b) they are all more or less the same for the first few days. Nothing about them is going to suggest a name, other than perhaps Crier, Poopie, or, if you're lucky, Sleepyhead.

Research has shown a correlation between name and socioeconomic status, but it tends to work in the opposite way from what I'm discussing (i.e. certain names are more popular with different socioeconomic classes). So go ahead and just pick a name. It's not going to change anything about who your child becomes. As long as you like the name (because you'll be saying it several thousand times a year) and it isn't easily made fun of (because any name will be made fun of, so you might as well make it challenging for the bullies), it's okay.

Which brings me to the exception - any reasonable name is okay. There may indeed be a negative impact on a kid's life if they have a profoundly weird name. Like "Ninja" or "Pumpkin" or "Thursday" (all from a bad-name poll on http://www.misterpoll.com/polls/237094). No "Apple"s or "Brooklyn"s. Please. And nothing difficult to pronounce, such as "Jakeriyonna" or "Deayahjanique". Be nice to your kid. Take into account your last name - so if your last name is "Tinkletop," avoid Timmy as a first name (from a bad-name blog, http://www.notwithoutmyhandbag.com/babynames/).

Searching for Lost Answers

So . . . it's been a little more than a week since the series finale of Lost, and now seems as good a time as any to comment on it. It's not so much going to be about Lost itself as our search for answers and explanations in general.

This post will contain spoilers, but not for Lost (too soon). I'll mention plot points or endings of The Exorcist, Star Wars, the Sopranos, and a short student film I made in 1995. Because none of these are current and pretty much anyone who wants to see these already has, I have no guilt about giving things away. Even for the student film, although I'm sure there is an audience clamouring for an unspoiled screening.

There has already been a glut of commentary not only on the episode itself but the decision on the part of the writer-producers to not give answers to the myriad questions that arose during the show's run (see http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1936291 for a funny recap of these questions). As I wrote in my previous post, throughout the show I was concocting, reading, and propounding theories as to what was going on. Those in my circle who watched the show had to endure my insufferable theorizing (and for that I am grateful), but for me it was part of the overall experience of watching the show. In the end, a lot of this was unanswered, and surprisingly (to me), I didn't care. I enjoyed the series and the finale, thought the end was fitting, and was ok that a) a lot of what was included in the show ultimately didn't matter and b) what did matter was not explained.

In fact, I prefered what was not explained to what was. Midway through the last season the writers started providing 'answers,' and it was invariably disappointing, for two reasons. The first is that the manner in which these answers were presented was very direct and not good storytelling - they simply had a character provide an explanation for something. It was almost as if the writers were saying - hey, you want answers, ok, here's an answer, now stop bothering me.

The second reason the answers were disappointing is that they constrained the story. Lost is a fantasy/sci-fi series, and developed a rich mythology; to me, though, the mythology was richest in mystery and became pedestrian when explained. They gave a (half-assed) explanation for what made the island special, and it was profoundly underwhelming. I was fine with the explanation that 'the island is special' without further elaboration. It's like in the more recent Star Wars trilogy, where they explain that The Force exists because of tiny entities called midichlorians. This explanation is unnecessary (the Force can just be, without further explanation) and cheapens the concept. The specificity given to these otherworldly concepts reduces them.

It is the interpretation and thought that individuals put into shows and entertainments like these that matters. For example, the finale of the Sopranos was largely panned because it simply cut to black rather than wrap up what 'happened.' I have since come to believe that the ending represents Tony's sudden death by gunshot (thanks to an extremely lengthly post by TV critic Alan Sepinwall), but at the time I just thought, ok, we watched this character for a while and now we're not watching him anymore. Others thought it was a big eff-you from the creator of the show, or a coded message of some kind, or a joke. But the role of the writer is not to just provide answers, but rather make you think (in this case, about what the hell happened).

Second example: The Exorcist. The director William Friedkin has said that the ending, in which Father Damien offers himself as host for the demon/Devil and then kills himself by jumping out a window, was intended to be optimistic; though Damien dies, he saves Linda Blair (so she could go on to soft-porn, go figure) and defeats the Devil. He was surprised to learn that many people saw the ending as the Devil winning. His take is that people leave the film with what they bring in; if you are optimistic about the world, the ending is optimistic. If not, the ending is depressing.

Last example: a student film I made in 1995. I would like to claim it was a social experiment, but really it was an exercise in laziness that became a social experiment. Year two of film school focused on documentaries, a topic I had little interest in. At the time I had hundreds of photos and posters on the walls of my apartment (all having to do with movies, all cut from movie magazines) so I just filmed a few seconds of a bunch of different pictures. I then 'edited' the film by randomly putting clips together (in some cases really randomly - I cut bits of film, threw them in the air, and blindly spliced them together based on where they landed, a strategy that I stole from how a section of the background music in the Beatles' Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite was edited).

Up to this point, I had never really impressed my film profs (one film I made about spontaneous cannibalism entertained some of my fellow students, but that was about it) but this one wowed. They thought it was provacative, interesting, and lively. Prof and student alike had theory as to what the film meant, what the message was. The message really was that I couldn't be bothered to put effort into the assignment, but no one theorized this. They got something out of the film because they wanted to, because adding meaning is what we do. I suspect a lot of art is like this - the interpretation of the art reflects more about the audience than the artist.

(A side effect of this incident is that for the rest of second year I made all of my documentary projects in this style, more or less. The others were not nearly as well-received.)

Back to Lost - we add meaning because that is what we do. We expect that people (real and fictional) do things for a reason, that there is motivation behind action, and that there is a (knowable) cause to events. Within the world of Lost (or any fiction), this may be true; an author has onmiscience and can either make every action as the consequent of some thought or attitude, or can ascribe a cause by making one up. In the real world, this is not true. Things happen randomly and by accident (probably more than on purpose). But when we discuss fiction, the audience can add value to the art or entertainment by adding meaning, rather than waiting for meaning to be revealed. Because the revealed meaning will never be as satisfying as deriving one yourself.

It was the answers that were not given that were most satisfying in Lost. And I wish they hadn't provided some of the answers that they did, because I liked mine better.