In July of this year, three planes went down in just eight days. My social media feed was flooded with anxious posts asking, “What’s happening up there?!” This was a real nail-biter for me since I was set to fly to San Francisco the very next day, and all the chatter about flying being “riskier than we thought” had me on edge.
Should I have been concerned? Is it alarming that three plane crashes occurred within such a short time frame? According to Dr. Mark Henson, a professor at the University of Cambridge specializing in risk analysis, the answer is no. Though three crashes in eight days might seem shocking, statistical data suggests that it’s not as rare as it sounds. In fact, this kind of occurrence has a probability of around 60% of happening at least once during any ten-year span.
What Does True Randomness Look Like?
The truth is that true randomness doesn’t manifest in the way we typically expect. In any genuinely random scenario, you can end up with clusters of events. Just like stars in the night sky forming constellations, a few plane crashes can happen to cluster together over a decade. Consider when Apple first launched the iPod Shuffle; users complained that its “random shuffle” feature wasn’t random enough because they sometimes heard the same song back-to-back. Apple initially made the shuffle function truly random, leading to repetitions. They later adjusted it so that it felt more random to users. Quite the twist!
Why We Struggle with Recognizing Randomness
Those anxious Facebook posts reveal more about human psychology than the actual safety of flying. Why are we so prone to overlook true randomness? Why do we see patterns and assume something more sinister is at play? A big part of the issue is that our brains are wired to seek patterns, even where none exist. We have a strong inclination to attribute agency to random events, as if they were orchestrated by some unseen hand.
There’s an evolutionary rationale for this behavior. Imagine living in prehistoric times, and you hear a rustling noise nearby. It could be a predator or just the wind. If you panic and run away, only to find out it was nothing serious, you might feel foolish. But if you ignore it and it turns out to be a predator, well, let’s just say you wouldn’t stick around to pass on your genes. It’s easy to see who’s more likely to survive and reproduce.
Another reason we fail to grasp randomness is that we fixate on clusters while ignoring the broader context. If you roll a die five times and get five sixes in a row, that’s shocking. But if you roll a die a thousand times, getting five sixes at some point is far less surprising. Similarly, if your dating method involves randomly selecting someone from the street and you hit it off instantly, you might think it’s fate. However, if it takes you years of awkward encounters to find that perfect match, the odds seem much clearer. We often focus on the clusters, overlooking the vast number of experiences that led to those moments.
While it’s understandable that our ancestors developed a knack for spotting patterns in randomness, this instinct might not serve us well today. It certainly made me more anxious about flying than I had any reason to be.
For more insights on navigating the world of home insemination, check out our blog at this link. You might also find valuable information on this resource if you’re interested in self insemination. And for a comprehensive guide on pregnancy options, visit this excellent resource.
In summary, while our brains are hardwired to see patterns and make connections, understanding true randomness can help reduce unnecessary fears—like the anxiety I felt about flying that day.