So I’m out here in Portland, OR visiting my pal Jake. He owns and operates a swell camera shop called Blue Moon Camera and Machine. I was in the back office working on the computer. Just as I went to minimize the shop’s email software, a familiar address jumped out at me. I did a double take. What was going on? Why was one of my web development clients emailing Blue Moon?
Jake came into the office and I asked him about the message. He opened it up and said that my client had read a recent newspaper article on the resurgent popularity of typewriters, in which Jake was quoted. This had prompted my client to look up Blue Moon, and email the shop with a question about wide angle lenses.
That’s it. My client had no idea that Jake and I were old friends, let alone that I was currently out in Portland.
Jake set about replying to the message, and we agreed that we should take the opportunity to bake my client’s noodle. Jake replied to the lens question, then closed by mentioning that I was at present standing behind him (behind Jake, not my client, although that certainly would have been creepier, especially if it had turned out to be true).
This happy coincidence got me thinking about coincidences in general, especially of the mystical convergence variety. We have all heard stories about someone obeying a strong compulsion not to board a plane, then seeing on the news that the plane crashed with no survivors. Or a person dreaming of someone not thought of for years, only to find out the next morning that the person dreamed of had just died unexpectedly.
The improbability of two such events occurring in close proximity naturally makes the mind attempt to relate the events. Douglas Adams wrote about this. I’m paraphrasing because my library is some 3,000 miles away at the moment, but he basically said that in a world of 6 billion people, these sorts of things come up all the time. At any given moment, lots and lots of people are dreaming about someone that they haven’t thought of in years, and lots and lots of people are dying. The two are bound to converge.
Our perception of it is what gives the experience meaning.
While researching the blog post about Intelligent Design (8/31/2005), I came across this great quote on probability:
… rarity by itself shouldn’t necessarily be evidence of anything. When one is dealt a bridge hand of thirteen cards, the probability of being dealt that particular hand is less than one in 600 billion. Still, it would be absurd for someone to be dealt a hand, examine it carefully, calculate that the probability of getting it is less than one in 600 billion, and then conclude that he must not have been dealt that very hand because it is so very improbable.”
– John Allen Paulos, Innumeracy: Mathematical Illiteracy and its Consequences
It always slays me when someone asks me what day my birthday is and, when I tell them (December 20th), they reply with something like, “Really! I know someone who was born on December 23rd!”
Holy crap, what are the chances?
Actually, if you want to make a quick buck off a deserving sucker, try out this bet. You and the sucker are in a room with 23 or more people (including you and the sucker). You bet that two of them share the same birthday. The probability is greater than 50% that you will win. If there are at least 30 people in the room, the probability is over 70%. If you are interested in seeing the math behind this, please visit The Math Forum @ Drexel.
I make none of these points in an attempt to disprove the existence of guardian angels, the loving influence of a Guiding Hand, or the magnetism of souls. One cannot prove a negative. However, I believe that it is worth reflecting on the fact that the human brain is wired for pattern recognition, and that it is a natural occurrence for us to see patterns, even when none are there.