Нассим Талеб - The Black Swan. The Impact of the Highly Improbable

Note that in the absence of any other information about a person you encounter, you tend to fall back on her nationality and background as a salient attribute (as the Italian scholar did with me). How do I know that this attribution to the background is bogus? I did my own empirical test by checking how many traders with my background who experienced the same war became skeptical empiricists, and found none out of twenty-six. This nationality business helps you make a great story and satisfies your hunger for ascription of causes. It seems to be the dump site where all explanations go until one can ferret out a more obvious one (such as, say, some evolutionary argument that “makes sense”). Indeed, people tend to fool themselves with their self-narrative of “national identity,” which, in a breakthrough paper in Science by sixty-five authors, was shown to be a total fiction. (“National traits” might be great for movies, they might help a lot with war, but they are Platonic notions that carry no empirical validity—yet, for example, both the English and the non-English erroneously believe in an English “national temperament.”) Empirically, sex, social class, and profession seem to be better predictors of someone’s behavior than nationality (a male from Sweden resembles a male from Togo more than a female from Sweden; a philosopher from Peru resembles a philosopher from Scotland more than a janitor from Peru; and so on).

The problem of overcausation does not lie with the journalist, but with the public. Nobody would pay one dollar to buy a series of abstract statistics reminiscent of a boring college lecture. We want to be told stories, and there is nothing wrong with that—except that we should check more thoroughly whether the story provides consequential distortions of reality. Could it be that fiction reveals truth while nonfiction is a harbor for the liar? Could it be that fables and stories are closer to the truth than is the thoroughly fact-checked ABC News? Just consider that the newspapers try to get impeccable facts, but weave them into a narrative in such a way as to convey the impression of causality (and knowledge). There are fact-checkers, not intellect-checkers. Alas.

But there is no reason to single out journalists. Academics in narrative disciplines do the same thing, but dress it up in a formal language—we will catch up to them in Chapter 10, on prediction.

Besides narrative and causality, journalists and public intellectuals of the sound-bite variety do not make the world simpler. Instead, they almost invariably make it look far more complicated than it is. The next time you are asked to discuss world events, plead ignorance, and give the arguments I offered in this chapter casting doubt on the visibility of the immediate cause. You will be told that “you overanalyze,” or that “you are too complicated.” All you will be saying is that you don’t know!

Dispassionate Science

Now, if you think that science is an abstract subject free of sensationalism and distortions, I have some sobering news. Empirical researchers have found evidence that scientists too are vulnerable to narratives, emphasizing titles and “sexy” attention-grabbing punch lines over more substantive matters. They too are human and get their attention from sensational matters. The way to remedy this is through meta-analyses of scientific studies, in which an überresearcher peruses the entire literature, which includes the less-advertised articles, and produces a synthesis.

THE SENSATIONAL AND THE BLACK SWAN

Let us see how narrativity affects our understanding of the Black Swan. Narrative, as well as its associated mechanism of salience of the sensational fact, can mess up our projection of the odds. Take the following experiment conducted by Kahneman and Tversky, the pair introduced in the previous chapter: the subjects were forecasting professionals who were asked to imagine the following scenarios and estimate their odds.

A massive flood somewhere in America in which more than a thousand people die.

An earthquake in California , causing massive flooding, in which more than a thousand people die.

Respondents estimated the first event to be less likely than the second. An earthquake in California, however, is a readily imaginable cause , which greatly increases the mental availability—hence the assessed probability—of the flood scenario.

Likewise, if I asked you how many cases of lung cancer are likely to take place in the country, you would supply some number, say half a million. Now, if instead I asked you many cases of lung cancer are likely to take place because of smoking, odds are that you would give me a much higher number (I would guess more than twice as high). Adding the because makes these matters far more plausible, and far more likely . Cancer from smoking seems more likely than cancer without a cause attached to it—an unspecified cause means no cause at all.

I return to the example of E. M. Forster’s plot from earlier in this chapter, but seen from the standpoint of probability. Which of these two statements seems more likely?

Joey seemed happily married. He killed his wife .

Joey seemed happily married. He killed his wife to get her inheritance .

Clearly the second statement seems more likely at first blush, which is a pure mistake of logic, since the first, being broader, can accommodate more causes, such as he killed his wife because he went mad, because she cheated with both the postman and the ski instructor, because he entered a state of delusion and mistook her for a financial forecaster.

All this can lead to pathologies in our decision making. How?

Just imagine that, as shown by Paul Slovic and his collaborators, people are more likely to pay for terrorism insurance than for plain insurance (which covers, among other things, terrorism).

The Black Swans we imagine, discuss, and worry about do not resemble those likely to be Black Swans. We worry about the wrong “improbable” events, as we will see next.

Black Swan Blindness

The first question about the paradox of the perception of Black Swans is as follows: How is it that some Black Swans are overblown in our minds when the topic of this book is that we mainly neglect Black Swans?

The answer is that there are two varieties of rare events: a) the narrated Black Swans, those that are present in the current discourse and that you are likely to hear about on television, and b) those nobody talks about, since they escape models—those that you would feel ashamed discussing in public because they do not seem plausible. I can safely say that it is entirely compatible with human nature that the incidences of Black Swans would be overestimated in the first case, but severely underestimated in the second one.

Indeed, lottery buyers overestimate their chances of winning because they visualize such a potent payoff—in fact, they are so blind to the odds that they treat odds of one in a thousand and one in a million almost in the same way.

Much of the empirical research agrees with this pattern of overestimation and underestimation of Black Swans. Kahneman and Tversky initially showed that people overreact to low-probability outcomes when you discuss the event with them , when you make them aware of it. If you ask someone, “What is the probability of death from a plane crash?” for instance, they will raise it. However, Slovic and his colleagues found, in insurance patterns, neglect of these highly improbable events in people’s insurance purchases. They call it the “preference for insuring against probable small losses”—at the expense of the less probable but larger impact ones.