Archive for category Culture
All right statisticians, the gloves are off. Get ready for a fight.
Home from college, my son presented me with the Monty Hall paradox (which I had encountered before with similar incredulity). With the self-assurance unique to denizens of the ivory tower, he argued passionately against my insistence that the universally accepted conclusion is a statistical fiction that has no basis in reality.
For the uninitiated, the famous problem goes like this:
You are a contestant on Let’s Make a Deal, and Monty Hall (the original show-host) offers you a choice of three doors. You choose Door Number 2. Obviously, your odds of winning the Ferrari are three-to-one against.
Monty then reveals that behind Door Number 3 is a goat. Not only are you still in the running, but your odds have just shortened to even-money.
So here’s the question: Given the option, should you stay with your original choice of Door Number 2 or switch your bet and take Door Number 1?
Most of us would say that it doesn’t matter. With two possibilities, your chances are 50-50, no matter which door you choose. So why switch?
But that’s not what Statisticians say. Rather, since your original choice left you with a ⅔ chance of losing, one of the two ways you could have lost is now removed. Consequently, Door Number 1 now absorbs the ⅓ probability that previously resided with Door Number 3. In other words, the chance of the Ferrari appearing behind Door Number 2 remains at ⅓ while the chance of it appearing behind Door Number 1 doubles to ⅔.
Mathematically, this makes perfect sense. Practically speaking, it is utter nonsense. I’m still left with two unknowns, which are just as unknown as they were before the cranberry sauce appeared. Two chances: even-money; 50-50. That’s all there is to it.
No! Scream the statisticians. We’ve proven it mathematically. We’ve even tested it, and it works.
Well, maybe they have. I don’t know; I wasn’t there. But the popular illusionists Siegfried and Roy demonstrated a lot of interesting phenomena, too, so forgive me if a remain a skeptic.
You won’t forgive me, Mr. Statistician? Okay, I’ll prove I’m right.
A collection of insightful Torah essays that will change the way you look at the world and at yourself.
A Crucible for Silver
Forging a brighter future for our children and ourselves
By Rabbi Yonason Goldson
Read the title essay here.
Available at Block Yeshiva High School, the Kollel bookstore, or from the author
$18 Donation (+ $3 postage)
All proceeds go to Block Yeshiva
On the afternoon of September 18th, a teenage driver lost control of his SUV as he sped down Salt Lake City’s Indiana Avenue. The GMC Yukon tore through the safety barrier, went airborne into a ravine, and landed upside down in three feet of water and the bottom of the gully. Dazed or unconscious, strapped in by their seat belts, the driver and his two passengers had minutes before they would drown.
What happened next offers a welcome relief from the relentless litany of strife and suffering that fills the headlines. Moments after the crash, nearly a dozen bystanders waded into the waist-high water and, working in unison, flipped the massive vehicle over onto its wheels, lifting the crash victims out from under the water and saving their lives.
But it might never have happened. As horrified onlookers stood frozen and stared at the capsized SUV, Leo Montoya, Jr., an out-of-work locksmith, overcame the Bystander Effect, plunged into the current and dove under the water in an effort to save the occupants. Unable to free them from their seat belts, only one option presented itself.
This has happened to you.
You’re standing in a crowded room. Someone pushes into you from behind. You feel a surge of irritation, even anger. Who is this careless oaf who can’t respect your personal space? You turn around to express your indignation, only to discover that the offending party is actually a good friend of yours who has bumped into you accidentally or, perhaps, even on purpose and is not smiling at you as you find yourself on the receiving end of a good-natured prank.
Your anger evaporates in an instant.
But why? The bump was no less of a bump on account of the person who bumped you. But the bump was never the issue at all. What was at issue was your ego, resenting the perpetrator who failed to show you respect.
It’s almost always ego that is the real perpetrator in any fight. Change one little detail and our irritation or anger vanishes. But when we feel our ego has been affronted, heaven help the offending party.
A man woke up one Sunday morning convinced that it was Monday. No one could tell him otherwise, and all the evidence his family and coworkers rallied made no impression upon him whatsoever. On Monday he asserted it was Tuesday, and on Wednesday he insisted it was Thursday. He refused to entertain the notion that he might be wrong and that everyone else might be right.
Published on Hubpages
You know who they are. You’ve seen them. They’re everywhere. On the roads. In the malls. In office buildings and grocery stores and parking lots.
There’s no way to avoid them. And there are more of them every day.
You know who I mean: the drifters.
They’re the ones driving just under the speed limit – 28 MPH in a 30 zone, not quite slow enough to pass and maddeningly unaware. They’re the ones walking through the aisles, down the halls, up the stairs, and across the floor, like Energizer Bunnies with batteries that have finally run down, refusing to stop but plodding along, sporadic, lethargic.
And it’s not just their lack of speed, not merely their dawdling. That we could live with, anticipate, and circumvent. It’s something much more than that – or much less.
On the roads, they drift back and forth between – and often across – the lines, incapable of keeping to one place inside their lanes or keeping one lane to be their place. They don’t understand the concept of turn lanes at all, creeping into them by inches as they reduce speed even further until, at last, they come to rest half in and half out, blocking traffic in four directions as they wait for the moment when they are finally ready to turn, when not a single car remains visible on any horizon.
As pedestrians they are no different, meandering down the sidewalks, looking irresolutely for some hint of destination, knowing through some sixth sense whether you are trying to pass them on the right or the left and instantly changing tack – the only movement they are able perform quickly. They are particularly fond of doorways and stairwells, where they instinctively come to a stop, thereby causing the greatest possible congestion.
Where do they come from? Why are there so many of them? And are we in danger of becoming like them?
In his 1926 novel The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway popularized the term “lost generation,” referring to the men in their twenties who returned from World War I traumatized by the horrors of a war that stole the innocence of their youth, men who were unable to find their place in a world that wanted nothing but to forget the past. Confused and without direction, they struggled to make sense of the senselessness of their experiences.
Published on Hubpages.com
A child’s brain is like a sponge, absorbing everything with which it comes in contact. As the brain gets older it learns to process, to analyze, to interpret. And eventually it begins to slow, begins to forget, begins to lose function.
Few prospects are as forbidding as mental decline, the specter of which haunts us as we advance toward old age. And so the experts tell us to keep our minds active, that using the brain is the surest way to stave off mental deterioration.
Crossword puzzles. Sudoku. Word games. Logic problems. These are common recipes from the diet books for the mind. Go traveling. Take up knitting or gardening. Learn Italian. Drive a different way to work. Get an advanced degree. Anything and everything that piques cognitive activity belongs in our catalogue of mental health activities.
“That’s all good,” says Barbara Strauch, author of The Secret Life of the Grown-Up Brain: The Surprising Talents of the Middle-Aged Mind andNew York Times health and medical science editor. But the most intriguing advice Ms. Strauch has heard is this: “Deliberately challenge your view of the world. Talk to people you totally disagree with.”
Published on Hubpages.com
In 1972, comedian George Carlin made headlines with his routine “7 words you can never say on television.” And although the FCC still limits what can be broadcast over the airways, the rise of cable TV long ago ensured that you can say – or hear, or see – just about anything on television.
But even this doesn’t show how much standards of refinement have changed.
Older readers will remember Johnny Carson, the legendary host of the Tonight Show whose 30-year tenure preceded that of Jay Leno. But not so many remember Mr. Carson’s predecessor, Jack Paar, and fewer still will recall why he left the show.
In the opening monologue one night, Mr. Paar uttered the expression “W.C.,” a mostly-forgotten anachronism meaning Water Closet, yet another anachronism meaningbathroom. The censors bleeped the term as profane. Mr. Paar quit the show in protest.
The story strikes as comical, and we can’t help rolling our collective eyes at the overzealous censors who couldn’t tell real profanity from the merely indelicate. But when it comes to values, we can’t escape the inevitable objection: who gets to decide where to draw the line?
And so, too often, no line gets drawn at all. That’s not good for us. And it’s even worse for our children. Because what gets lost with the line is something that was once called character.