Sometimes the mere application of statistical knowledge can give you abilities that seem super-normal to children. Let me take one example. I send my son upstairs to get dressed. Five minutes later I shout out "stop doing that and get dressed." My son comes downstairs dressed and asks, "how did you know I wasn't getting dressed?" I respond: "I see all, don't forget it."
In fact, I only see probabilities and let me tell you that there is no safer bet that my son has "got lost" before he has managed to get dressed. So an occasional shout out based on that bet and no observed evidence is a pretty safe one.
But this form of statistical superpowers doesn't always work: it may be a safe bet but it is still a bet. Let me take another example attempting to use a far more sophisticated super-power: statistics + game theory.
We came home the other night after going to our daughter's parent-teacher interview. Immediately, she bounded up to me and asked us how it was. Hmm, how unusual? I thought. Why is she so interested?
"So how did it go?"
"Well, you know?"
"I know what?"
"He told us about the ... incident."
"The incident?"
"Yes, would you like to tell me your side of the story?"
Sadly (for me at least), it transpired that there was no 'incident' (my supposition of poor behaviour or trouble) and that she was just interested in what the teacher had to say. There was no information to be extracted so freely. I maintain it was a good bet but the sad thing is that you can't play that card too often: statistics persists but a game theoretic advantage evaporates. I'll have to leave that one for a few more years.
In fact, I only see probabilities and let me tell you that there is no safer bet that my son has "got lost" before he has managed to get dressed. So an occasional shout out based on that bet and no observed evidence is a pretty safe one.
But this form of statistical superpowers doesn't always work: it may be a safe bet but it is still a bet. Let me take another example attempting to use a far more sophisticated super-power: statistics + game theory.
We came home the other night after going to our daughter's parent-teacher interview. Immediately, she bounded up to me and asked us how it was. Hmm, how unusual? I thought. Why is she so interested?
"So how did it go?"
"Well, you know?"
"I know what?"
"He told us about the ... incident."
"The incident?"
"Yes, would you like to tell me your side of the story?"
Sadly (for me at least), it transpired that there was no 'incident' (my supposition of poor behaviour or trouble) and that she was just interested in what the teacher had to say. There was no information to be extracted so freely. I maintain it was a good bet but the sad thing is that you can't play that card too often: statistics persists but a game theoretic advantage evaporates. I'll have to leave that one for a few more years.
I just discovered your website through the Freakonomics blog and, though I'm not a parent nor plan to have kids for quite awhile, must say that a lot of these stories are quite charming and interesting.
ReplyDeleteAnyways, best of luck with getting your statistics+game theory method to work next time.
While your method does sound funny and clever, assuming the worst of a child based on "probability", even in little things like getting dressed, can be really frustrating from the child's perspective. Even worse, negatively interpreting a child's positive intent can harm a child-parent trust relationship; if the kid feels that her good intentions will be interpreted as a sign of guilt, it's a "good bet" that she'll be less likely to show those good intentions next time you come home from a parent-teacher's conference. If you treat kids like stereotypes, they'll start acting like stereotypes.
ReplyDeleteMy high school coach saw me at the lockers early and he abruptly asked:
ReplyDelete"Why did you hit Hogan?"
"I didn't hit him--He hit me first!"
Coach laughs.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
I didn't know it was you that hit Hogan, but I figured it just had to be you!"