Chance would be a fine thing

We all have to die - death and taxes and the like - and I would like to think with the genetic hand I have been dealt I am but about two thirds through my allotted span. Thinking about this occupies absolutely zero of my thought time as the final curtain is a) hopefully a very long way off and b) there is bugger all I can do about it - apart from eating my greens, cutting the fat off my pork chops and only spreading butter on my soldiers when Mrs O is not looking.

A premature truncation of one's life can be accidental courtesy of a vehicular accident (or choking on an inhaled fish, or being struck by lightning or.......) and the New Zealand Police get severely exercised by this come every long weekend off occasioned by a Public Holiday. We get the mandatory interview on the Friday night with the National Road Policing Manger type chap (who at the moment is a wimmin) who stands on a bridge over the Wellington motorway wearing a Hi Viz jacket and tells us all that speed kills and that plod will be out in force on the random breath test front. Yawn. We have had a new 'measure' that will cut down the carnage on the roads for the last year or so. Tolerance for exceeding the 100kph top limit (seriously I can't get my car into 6th gear at 100kph - I've paid for a gear I'm never going to use) will be reduced from 110 to 104 just for the weekend. To ensure this draconian stance has 'impact'. They can't seriously expect anyone to believe any of this can they?

Well yes they do. The Queen's Birthday weekend just gone killed no one. Moving right past the stupid tortology of that statement we shall examine the official reaction to this entirely satisfactory state of affairs. Top Transport Police Woman Type Person takes off her Hi Viz apparel (and mercifully stops the disrobing process at that point) and gives a full view of her dental work. Gushing praise of how all the speed kills policy has at last had an effect. The New Zealand driver is at last paying attention and the message is getting through. Because of strict policing over the weekend no New Zealanders are facing the week with sadness at the loss of a loved one. And so on ad bloody nauseam. Stupid woman.

How many people do you have to have in a room so that there is a greater than 50% chance at least two of them have the same birthday? 365 days in the year remember; add in a leap year or two to make the calculations a little more interesting. Answer? 23. Surprising? Maybe, but it is true and has its roots in very simple mathematics and the really quite cute theories surrounding probabilities and chance.

There is no reason that no people were killed by the recent Queen's Birthday weekend other than chance. Oh and the fact that calendars don't kill people unless you get sconed by a jolly big box full. It was equally likely that three or six people got killed. Then what would silly woman on the over bridge say? 'We are disappointed, obviously, but it is gratifying that none of the deaths appear to be speed related'. What if the equally likely random event (and that is what zero road deaths is) of 17 people getting mangled in the BMW had happened? Press statement still wearing the Hi Viz would probably be called for. 'The message is just not getting through. For Labour weekend the discretionary speed will be reduce to 101.76 kph as New Zealanders just have to wake up to the fact that speed kills.'

I find statistics textbooks not to be ripping good yarns. I need to have even rudimentary number crunching refresher courses on a regular sort of five yearly basis to keep me on the straight and narrow. I do this because it is part of my job to be reasonably competent when confronted with great screeds of data. I would like to think that people involved in other fields, especially those spending my money, are similarly equipped. The fact that decisions are made on the back of Statistics 101 from the front page of The Herald is just not good enough.

But the great unwashed lap it up. Remember Economy Class Syndrome? Sit in row 55 on a flight taking you further than Brisbane and you will die of a pulmonary embolus as you wait for your suitcase at the luggage carousel. Fork out loadsa dosh and luxuriate in 9A and you'll be fine. THis because you are four times (from memory) more likely to get a DVT sitting in Economy than in Business. Multiply an infinitesimally small number buy an integer and what do you get? An infinitesimally small number. Getting a DVT from sitting on a plane is incredibly bloody unlikely where ever you sit.

Will all this bollocks stop anytime soon? Of course it won't. The only answer is to travel up the front of the plane because it is just better and not because it prolongs your life. And we need to build lots of nice concrete roads and make the tolerance on the 100kph limit about 150 so I can use all the gears in the Jag I paid for.

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