This miscalculation problem is a little more subtle. In truth, outliers are not as sensitive to underestimation since they are fragile to estimation errors, which can go in both directions. As we saw in Chapter 6, there are conditions under which people overestimate the unusual or some specific unusual event (say when sensational images come to their minds)—which, we have seen, is how insurance companies thrive. So my general point is that these events are very fragile to
The errors get worse with the degree of remoteness to the event. So far, we have only considered a 2 percent error rate in the game we saw earlier, but if you look at, say, situations where the odds are one in a hundred, one in a thousand, or one in a million, then the errors become monstrous. The longer the odds, the larger the epistemic arrogance.
Note here one particularity of our intuitive judgment: even if we lived in Mediocristan, in which large events are rare, we would still underestimate extremes—we would think that they are even rarer. We underestimate our error rate even with Gaussian variables. Our intuitions are sub-Mediocristani. But we do not live in Mediocristan. The numbers we are likely to estimate on a daily basis belong largely in Extremistan, i.e., they are run by concentration and subjected to Black Swans.
There is no effective difference between my guessing a variable that is not random, but for which my information is partial or deficient, such as the number of lovers who transited through the bed of Catherine II of Russia, and predicting a random one, like tomorrow’s unemployment rate or next year’s stock market. In this sense, guessing (what I don’t know, but what someone else may know) and predicting (what has not taken place yet) are the same thing.
To further appreciate the connection between guessing and predicting, assume that instead of trying to gauge the number of lovers of Catherine of Russia, you are estimating the less interesting but, for some, more important question of the population growth for the next century, the stock-market returns, the social-security deficit, the price of oil, the results of your great-uncle’s estate sale, or the environmental conditions of Brazil two decades from now. Or, if you are the publisher of Yevgenia Krasnova’s book, you may need to produce an estimate of the possible future sales. We are now getting into dangerous waters: just consider that most professionals who make forecasts are also afflicted with the mental impediment discussed above. Furthermore, people who make forecasts professionally are often
INFORMATION IS BAD FOR KNOWLEDGE
You may wonder how learning, education, and experience affect epistemic arrogance—how educated people might score on the above test, as compared with the rest of the population (using Mikhail the cabdriver as a benchmark). You will be surprised by the answer: it depends on the profession. I will first look at the advantages of the “informed” over the rest of us in the humbling business of prediction.
I recall visiting a friend at a New York investment bank and seeing a frenetic hotshot “master of the universe” type walking around with a set of wireless headphones wrapped around his ears and a microphone jutting out of the right side that prevented me from focusing on his lips during my twenty-second conversation with him. I asked my friend the purpose of that contraption. “He likes to keep in touch with London,” I was told. When you are employed, hence dependent on other people’s judgment, looking busy can help you claim responsibility for the results in a random environment. The appearance of busyness reinforces the perception of causality, of the link between results and one’s role in them. This of course applies even more to the CEOs of large companies who need to trumpet a link between their “presence” and “leadership” and the results of the company. I am not aware of any studies that probe the usefulness of their time being invested in conversations and the absorption of small-time information—nor have too many writers had the guts to question how large the CEO’s role is in a corporation’s success.
Let us discuss one main effect of information: impediment to knowledge.
Aristotle Onassis, perhaps the first mediatized tycoon, was principally famous for being rich—and for exhibiting it. An ethnic Greek refugee from southern Turkey, he went to Argentina, made a lump of cash by importing Turkish tobacco, then became a shipping magnate. He was reviled when he married Jacqueline Kennedy, the widow of the American president John F. Kennedy, which drove the heartbroken opera singer Maria Callas to immure herself in a Paris apartment to await death.