3 Balls In A Bag

Or for our blind fans, gutta-percha balls of varying wicker width will work.

Let’s play a game. (Save your energy looking for a trick, or a loophole in the wording. There isn’t any. Just read.)

Behold a bag with 3 balls in it. One is red, each of the others is either black or white.

You get a choice. You’ll receive $100 if you reach into the bag and pull out:

A. A red ball. (These are straight-up gifts, with no risk on your part. It’s not as if you have to pay $100 if you don’t choose a red ball.)

B. A black ball.

Pick one. Write down your answer. We’ll need it in a couple of minutes. (And don’t think anyone’s trying to screw you here. The non-red balls came at random from a giant vat of balls containing 1000 white ones and 1000 black ones.)

Okay, same bag, only now with different (and more generous) rules. You get $100 if you choose a

C. Red or a white ball.
D. Black or a white ball.

Again, pick one.
Now look at your answer from the 1st question. Considering that the answer consisted of only a single letter, you probably didn’t need to write it down and can thus recite it from memory, but many of you are slow, which is why we disabled comments.

If you’re like most people, you selected A and D. Which isn’t wrong nor right, but it is inconsistent.

Regarding the A-B choice in the first example: Most people pick A because it’s a “sure thing”, in a manner of speaking. You have a fixed 1/3 chance of winning if you pick A. If you pick B, you might have a 1/3 chance of winning. Or a 2/3 chance. Or possibly no chance.

In the second example, most people pick D. Again, because it’s a “sure thing”. Choose D, and you’re guaranteed a 2/3 chance of winning. But if you pick C, yes, you might have a certain chance of winning. Or a 2/3 chance. Then again, you might have only a 1/3 chance.

So why is it that if you indeed picked A and D (or B and C, which hardly anyone does), it makes you inconsistent?

If you choose A, you’re assuming that both the non-red balls are white. (Think about it.)
And if you choose D, you’re assuming the opposite – that at least one non-red ball is black.

The psychological revelation here is clear: people hate risk that they deem unnecessary, even when said risk is anything but.

“No, but I KNOW I have a 1/3 chance with A. I don’t KNOW that with B.” Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter whether you pick A or B, and it doesn’t matter whether you pick C or D. Each of the former has a 1/3 chance of paying off, each of the latter has a 2/3 chance of paying off. Pull a ball out of the bag (or out of other bags that fill the same conditions) 900 times, and on average it’ll be red 300 times. It’ll be black 300 times. It’ll be red or white 600 times, and it’ll be black or white 600 times. Absolutely and without exception.

Humans are awful at assessing odds, that’s not news. Go to a lottery ticket kiosk or casino floor if you doubt that. But here’s a situation where people know the odds and are still somehow convinced that there’s a way to beat them, by eliminating uncertainty. (Or believing they’re eliminating uncertainty, when in fact they aren’t doing a thing.) And this for a game with nothing but upside.

How does this manifest itself in our daily lives? It happens all the time, and in more subtle ways than you think. The investment that pays 10%, or the one with half a chance of returning nothing and half a chance of returning 20%? There’s a particular kind of person who wants the certain payout and another who’s willing to gamble, but again, that’s not the point here. The point is that if you are going to be that conservative person who wants a guaranteed payout no matter what and will gladly forgo the possibility of greater riches (because you figure your metaphorical bag probably contains 2 white balls), you should still hold that assumption when the payouts increase across the board (instead of assuming that well, if I look at it from this angle, then there’s either 0 or 1 white balls in there and my initial assumption about 2 white balls was wrong.)

Selecting “B” or “C” isn’t embracing the fear of the unknown. It’s coldly assessing the situation and saying, “This is no worse than selecting ‘A’ or ‘D’. I can’t assume the deck is stacked against me in one moment and then think it’s stacked the other way in the next.”

But what if you can’t afford to lose? What if the payouts above were -$100 instead of $100? Again, it shouldn’t matter. There’s nothing you can do minimize your chance of loss, although maybe you can convince yourself otherwise.

In our example, it doesn’t matter what you pick. In real life, it usually does. But either way, there’s no point in holding hunches only to discard them seconds later. And in cases where the inputs and outcomes are random, there’s no point in even holding those hunches in the first place. Expected value is expected value.

Both Sides of the Ball

Watson knows offense

 

One of our favorite new discoveries is 6400 Personal Finance, whose author has zero patience for people who insist on living their financial lives passively; being done unto instead of taking charge. He recently said something so pithy, so brilliant, that we’re angry we didn’t think of it first. Paraphrasing, he says building wealth is offense. Saving and conservation are defense. It takes both to win.

Yet if you listen to most people – self-styled experts, your peers, the man on the street – almost all of them concentrate on the subtractive side of the ledger. Defense. How to save money. How to cut your expenses. How to cram 4 people into a house barely half the size of a basketball key.

How did we get here? If you’ll excuse another sports analogy, there’s an old bromide that “90% of baseball is pitching and defense.” Which makes as much sense as saying that 90% of a magnet is its north pole. Most adults who take that axiom on faith don’t realize that it’s a lie intended for children. When you’re 8 years old, swinging a bat and being the center of attention is fun. Standing in left field waiting to make a play on a ball that might never come is less so. Therefore Little Leaguers need to be convinced that focusing on the latter will help them win games. The kids won’t internalize the saying, but if you repeat it enough then hopefully it’ll tip the scales a little and the kids will start hustling when they’re in the field.

Even those of you who didn’t play organized sports are conditioned to act defensively. To refrain from doing the dumb activity, as opposed to undertaking the smart activity.

Somewhere along the line, people twisted the definition of “economize”. It used to mean doing as much as possible with what you have. Now, it seems to mean doing as little as possible with what you have. Just read this sturdy fellow who apparently has decent income, a reasonable net worth and zero debt, yet spends his free time collecting rocks by the side of the road because it doesn’t cost anything.

Why are people so reluctant to build, rather than to preserve? Because offense isn’t immediately easy to grasp, as defense is.

Defense is reactionary. Defense means anticipating what’s coming, and plotting to combat it and minimize any damage. Offense is creative. It means relying on your skills, expertise and experience to do something remarkable. (You have to rely on yours, as opposed to anyone else’s, because God knows no one else is going to go out of his way to help you build wealth.)

Is offense riskier than defense? Of course it is. But the great irony about shifting your focus to offense is that if done correctly, playing offense shouldn’t take any more effort than playing defense does.

Playing good defense means:

  • Making sure your boss sees you come early and stay late, even though you’re getting no immediate reward out of it.
  • Doing everything that’ll result in a good performance review, in the hopes that the next promotion has your name on it. Which it well might, assuming that your boss’s fraternity brother’s unemployed daughter doesn’t decide that she might like to try her hand at whatever it is you do for a living.
  • Economizing for its own sake. Having the wherewithal to afford a nicer house or a better car, but refusing to just because you’d rather hold onto the money. Even though you have no idea what to do with said money. 

Playing good offense means:

  • Taking those extra uncompensated hours you would have spent at the office, and using them to learn about the stock market. Even having the Fox Business Network on in the background while you passively listen to the hosts and analysts will give you at least the basis of an idea of what building wealth entails, and expose you to the jargon. Ask the folks at Rosetta Stone – total immersion is the only way to learn a new language.
  • Getting pre-approved for a mortgage. You can’t buy your first house without one (unless you pay cash, which probably means you’re already rich.) Nor can you buy your second house without one. In the first case, you’re throwing off the tyranny of renting. In the second, you’re making it easier to eventually build another investment that, if done correctly, will mean far more to your bottom line than will pleasing your superiors at your place of employment.
  • Setting up a limited liability company (Hey, we have a book about this)
  • Taking the money you’ve saved via your commitment to defense, and doing something with it that requires more thought than just sticking it in a savings account. Or even a CD. Or even a 401(k).

None of this is hard, but it’s out of the ordinary. It comes with the possibility of greater rewards way in the future. So far off in the future, in the eyes of the unimaginative, that they can’t see it. Better to apply yourself to what you know and stay in your comfort zone. Even though that doesn’t come with any guarantee, either.

If you think that your income should derive solely from the sweat of your brow, you’re living in the wrong millennium. Rich people don’t feel guilty for leveraging their time and money. They can’t. They understand that it’s the only way to get rich.

We’ve said this before, but here it is again using a different example. Sergey Brin started with nothing extraordinary, and is maybe 100,000 times richer than you. Does that mean he works 100,000 times as hard as you do? No, that’s impossible. Does it mean that he’s been allotted 16,800,000 hours each week, instead of the 168 the rest of us get? No. But it does mean that he isn’t relying on his salary, handsome as it may be, to build wealth.

Make it a moral imperative to find other sources of income, rather than to merely cut back. Any idiot can squeeze a penny, or tell you how to, and plenty of idiots do.

Unfortunately, the English language is limited in that what we’re advocating is known to the world as “passive” income. From one angle, that makes sense. “Passive” as distinguished from “active”, referring to income earned directly from work.

But again, people have misinterpreted what should be obvious. They take “passive” income to mean that they don’t have to do anything to earn it. Or that passive income isn’t even truly “earned” in the conventional sense. Even the IRS agrees with this assessment, having classified an entire set of income as “unearned” and implemented a structure for taxing it.

Passive income takes plenty of effort to achieve. It requires not just some higher-order thinking, but the fortitude to see that thinking through. It means disabusing yourself of the idea that the two most important things in the universe are a) avoiding getting fired and b) spending as little as possible.

Spending as little as possible is swell, if you want to live a boring life. Worthwhile things, both goods and services, cost money. Buying some of them will result in no discernible increase in your net worth (e.g. a trek to the Central African Republic, a new ensemble at Chico’s.) Buying others will (e.g. the services of a fee-only financial advisor, a house with a greater potential for appreciation than a cheaper house that you’d otherwise buy.) But again, this post isn’t about saving money, especially not as an end unto itself. It’s about learning how to build more wealth, and not relying on external forces to do it for you.

Download one of our ebooks to get started. It’ll take less time to read than the hours you’d lose by working through lunch a couple of times.

Take The Underdog

This passed for sexy in the ’70s. Explain to us again why all women aren’t lesbians?

 

This post doesn’t have a lot to do with personal finance, but we did the research and needed to present it somewhere. Just as George Will takes a break from his political columns to write an annual column on baseball, consider this our indulgence. Plus you’ll learn something. If you know the rudiments of sports gambling, start reading again where it goes red.

Like all wagering, sports gambling is largely stupid from the bettor’s perspective, a way for the book to earn a 4.5% return on your money in the length of time it takes to play a football or basketball game. The most common bet in those particular sports involves invoking the pointspread. You don’t bet on a team to win, you bet on a team to cover said spread. For instance, on Thursday the Oklahoma City Thunder and Miami Heat will play Game 5 of the NBA Finals. Miami is a 3½-point favorite, meaning that if you bet on Miami, they need to win by at least 4 for you to collect. If they win by less than 4, or lose, you lose too. Conversely, a bet on Oklahoma City means they can’t do any worse than lose by 3. If you bet on “Oklahoma City plus three and a half”, to use the jargon, you’ll be ecstatic if they win, and no less happy if they lose by up to 3. In short, when the game ends, we subtract the point spread from the favored team’s score for betting purposes.

Of course, many games’ outcomes are determined well before the final buzzer. The point spread is the means by which a game that threatens to be uncompetitive can attract a bettor’s interest. Say San Antonio, the team with the regular season’s best record, is favored to beat historically abysmal Charlotte by 20. But if San Antonio is leading 121-100 with :30 to play, even though the game itself was long ago decided, every wager is still very much alive. If you had San Antonio -20, only to see Charlotte hoist up a meaningless basket at the end of the game, you’re going to be homicidal. And if you took Charlotte +20, you’re going to be overjoyed. That’s an example of the infamous backdoor cover, which can turn otherwise rational sports viewers into frothing lunatics. The ultimate backdoor cover happens when time expires just as the final shot goes in.

Which brings us to our study topic. Oklahoma City’s James Harden hit a buzzer-beating backdoor cover earlier in the playoffs, which made us wonder how common they are. We went through all 990 regular season games, looking for last-second baskets that didn’t affect the game’s outcome but that did affect the line. We found 5 that turned a wagering loss into a win (or vice versa) and 2 that turned the game into a push (game lands exactly on the spread, all bets refunded.) All the buzzer-beaters were 3-pointers, and all were hoisted up by the losing team:

There were 3 more that weren’t shot at the buzzer, but were close enough. Again, all were 3-pointers shot by the underdog:


Is this just esoterica, or are there any practical lessons to learn from this? No and yes.

First, understand that the sports books’ job is not to predict who’s going to win and by how much. Rather, their job is to place the pointspread at the precise location where they estimate they’ll be as much money wagered on one side of the game as on the other. From their perspective, in a perfect world tomorrow night’s game would have exactly $x bet on Miami and exactly $x on Oklahoma City. That way, the books would guarantee that they’ll receive their standard 4.5% cut on the game’s handle, regardless of who wins.

What, you thought it worked differently? You thought sports books try to determine who’ll win a game, cross their fingers that people will bet on the other side, then hope to collect all the money? Of course they don’t do that, that’d be gambling. And if anyone knows that gambling is stupid, it’s casino executives. To quote the tobacco company CEO, “No thanks, I don’t smoke. That stuff will kill you.” They’d much rather take a guaranteed 4.5% return than virtually no chance at a 100% return.

That being said, a team that’s ahead and is just waiting for the game to end isn’t going to put up pointless shots. That’d be rubbing the opponent’s face in it, kind of. On the other hand, the opponent wants to save face and keep things as close as possible if the opportunity presents itself. Even if “close” has little meaning: losing a game by 7 isn’t any different than losing by 10. A team that’s up by an insurmountable amount isn’t going to bother contesting the opponent’s desperate, low-percentage shots. The leading team’s attitude is go ahead, have at it: just make sure you use as much of the shot clock as possible, so the game isn’t unnecessarily prolonged and so we can all go home.

Thus, taking the underdog is ever-so-slightly a better play than taking the favorite. Enough that it made a difference in around 1% of games this year. Favorites never cover on last-second shots that don’t affect the outcome of the game, while underdogs sometimes do.

That’s if someone has a gun to your head and order you to gamble. Voluntary gambling remains ludicrous.