Why Spain Will Win Any Penalty Shootout

For many years, I have believed penalty shootouts to be sort of rubbish and a game of chance. I always thought that penalties were more or less 50-50, depending on whether the goalkeeper guessed the right direction or not.

I was a fool to believe that. Everything changed when I watched the Spain vs Italy penalty shootouts in Euro 2008. Spain won the shootout 4-2, courtesy of two saves from Iker Casillas. Even the ones that went in, Casillas dove in the right direction. Was lady luck smiling upon Casillas that night, or was there something more to it? 

Well, I don't know about those world class coaches, but after thinking about it quite a lot, I realized what was Casillas' secret. From then on, I have always had faith that Spain will never lose in any penalty shootout (almost never, I suppose). This was because Casillas will dive in the right direction almost every single time. This was again exemplified in the Euro 2012 shootout between Spain and Portugal.

How can Casillas consistently dive in the right direction? Well, after today, this will no longer be a secret. If you are footballer, pay attention closely to what I am about to reveal. Just before you kick the ball, assuming you are using your in-step, you would have to plant your feet next to the ball. Observe where the toes of your planted foot is pointing to. Yes, it is pointing to roughly the direction you are aiming. There is no way around this, unless of course you intend to kick with your out-step. But no one with common sense would do that in a penalty shootout.

Just imagine, if you are a right footer, and you plan to kick towards the right, there is NO WAY your planted foot can be pointed to the left. It would be a very awkward kick. But of course, if you were aiming to the left, which is the natural direction, your left foot would not be aiming directly to the left, but rather closer to the middle. But you cannot deny that it is obviously pointing a lot closer to the left than if you were aiming to the right.

If all this is too tedious to imagine, just go to 2:10 in the second video above, or look at the picture below:

Pepe directed his kick to the right (of Casillas). It is not so clear in the screenshot, but if you watch the video closely, you can tell distinctly that Pepe was aiming to the right. It will take several viewings. But it is most definitely discernible.  

I think Casillas has figured this out after watching thousands of penalty takers. I am not a professional goalkeeper, but this is my two cents after considering how Casillas has managed to gain such a huge edge during penalties. Of course, this is not to say Casillas is going to save every kick. Even if he were to dive in the right direction, the power and accuracy still plays a role, as demonstrated above. Pepe made the shot. But diving in the right direction is infinitely better than diving in the wrong direction. Surely, you can't deny that?

I don't think the Germans or Italians are going to read this blog, so I am not worried about them discovering Casillas' secret and things may not even go to the shootouts in the finals. And even if they figured this out, and it went to the shootouts, I seriously doubt there is much anyone can do about it. You can't change the way you kick the ball naturally. If you tried, you would just lose a lot of power and accuracy and that could just be enough to see Spain win back-to-back Euros. 

Volume 4 Issue 16: Intelligent Investing

Common Sense - Minimum Wage Edition

Not even sure if this is just a coincidence, but on the Monday after Bersih 3.0, the Najib administration quickly announced the minimum wage at RM900 (for West Malaysia) and RM800 for Sabah and Sarawak. For some, the announcement of a minimum wage is long overdue, while others, claim that it will destroy their businesses.

I think that all of the above issues totally miss the real point. The crux of the problems in Malaysia's labour force was correctly highlighted by Lim Guan Eng's response to Najib's announcement:

The DAP warned today that the government's minimum wage policy announced last night will not result in better quality of life without being more competitive, creating high productivity jobs and bringing women into the workforce.

I don't know the kind of advisers that Najib surrounds himself with, but based on the evidence provided in the same article above, it is no surprise that after a disastrous Bersih 3.0 outing, Najib's hand was forced to move:

Datuk Seri Najib Razak's announcement last night follows the increase of minimum wage by around 40 per cent in Thailand last month, part of Yingluck Shinawatra's campaign pledge that helped propel her to win Thai elections last July. 

Taiwan’s move to increase minimum pay by 5 per cent last year also helped President Ma Ying-jeou win a second term in January 

Vietnam will also raise the floor wage for the public sector by 27 per cent in May after enacting a minimum wage increase of as much as 69 per cent in October for both private and state-owned enterprises. 

Thousands of workers are also expected to take to the streets in Hong Kong today, demanding Chief Executive-elect Leung Chun-ying address a widening wealth gap when he takes office in July.

As Lim Guan Eng appropriately puts it, competitiveness is the main issue here. Right up til now, Najib has focused only on the easy reforms, implementing populist measures to shore up his support.

Volume 4 Issue 8: Intelligent Investing

DC Metro Violinist - People Don't Appreciate Beauty? Or Have You Fallen Victim to Fallacies?

When I saw a bunch of people shared this on Facebook, my initial reaction was to agree with the passage. I was about to shake my head in dismay with the rest of the world when I realized that the passage was utter hogwash. Those of you who felt that people these days no longer stop and smell the roses have fallen prey to the tricks of journalism.

I am not saying that the story is a lie, but the scenario was twisted to demonstrate "a fact" when in fact, it actually shows nothing. It is actually a fallacy, as I will soon show.

But first, for those of you who have not read the passage, here it is below:

 A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that 1,100 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. 

Three minutes went by, and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace, and stopped for a few seconds, and then hurried up to meet his schedule.
A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping, and continued to walk. 

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work. 

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried, but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally, the mother pushed hard, and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on. 

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money, but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition. 

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the most talented musicians in the world. He had just played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, on a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. 

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100. 

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste, and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context? 

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be:
If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing? 

By: Kristof Burm

Now, how many of us know Joshua Bell? Not many, I am sure. He sold out at a theater in Boston at an average ticket price of US$100. Now, every one knows that paying US$100 for a performance is a luxury many of us cannot afford. Would you pay US$100 to listen to a musician you don't really know? Perhaps it is my ignorance, but it is more likely that a performance by Joshua Bell is a luxury good.

Imagine the following scenario. If all the rich people in the world decided to buy up all the caviare in the world and open a stand in Africa and start giving it out for free. Do you think that the starving people in Africa would appreciate the luxurious food that is caviare? They would not even know what it is. Some may not even like it. Anyone with half a brain would argue that the Africans would most certainly appreciate it more if all that money was used to buy them rice instead.

Let us return to the Joshua Bell scenario. The passers-by at the DC Metro are average Joe's from the main street. They wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Joshua Bell and a Grade 12 violinist (I don't even know if there is such a thing). Heck, I would not even know what Bach's music sounds like. Is it because I am ignorant? Perhaps. But I think it is because classical music is no longer main stream. People's tastes and preferences have evolved. People who pay a tonne of money to see someone perform classical music are not very different from those who are willing to pay a lot of money for antique tables. To a normal person, an antique table is just a really old table. It is a luxury that an average Joe like you and me would not care for.

I'd much rather spend 10 times less and get a hyper-modern looking desk from Ikea. The reason people did not stop for Joshua Bell was because the music that he is playing is not main stream enough for the main streeters.

Now, imagine another scenario. Let us say that instead of Joshua Bell, there was a flame eater who was performing at the DC Metro. I would bet you a nickel that he would probably end up collecting more money than Joshua Bell playing the violin. Why? Simply because it is something people from the main street would appreciate a lot more. People would stop and watch. They would appreciate the talent of a flame eater a lot more than the talents of Joshua Bell.

Perhaps the people from the good paper of the Washington Post should conduct a control experiment as well. Place a flame eater on the same corner. OK, maybe it is not so practical due to safety concerns. Then measure the number of people who donate money and the number of people to stop and watch. It is safe to say that a lot more people would stop and appreciate that talent.

To push the argument a bit further. Imagine if Taylor Swift, or worse, Justin Bieber was singing at that corner. I think the amount of floor space at that station would not be able to cater for the crowd that would gather around that performance. This is simply because their music is a lot more main stream.

So next time, before you jump to any conclusions about a news article, pay attention to the slants of the journalist. Don't fall prey to dirty journalism tactics. Good information is so hard to come by.

Staying Positive In A Negative Environment

I think this is an important skill to acquire, more important for some than for others. Long ago, the Main Streeter published a post on how dwelling on mistakes can create a mountain out of a mole hill:

Now Eve is beginning to get really frustrated. "What is Adam really doing? Why hasn't he replied my message? Why didn't he pick up my call? He must be playing computer games with his friends again. Is he out with another girl? I guess that's quite unlikely. He's not the cheating type. If only I could see him. I made sure I left my schedule open this weekend just to see him. I even decided not to go to Jenny's birthday party because it was the premier weekend for Saw V. What is he doing? Where could he be? Maybe he is watching the movie with his friends. Why didn't he invite me along? Is he embarassed about me? Does he think I am too clingy? Am I too clingy? Should I give him more space? Why am I so frustrated? He probably just didn't see my message. But why would someone own a cellphone and not be reachable? Might as well not own a cellphone". 

As you can see, this thought process can go on and on and on. This is called "dwelling". To the unsuspecting guy (I guess he may or may not be innocent, but he would in no way suspect he was doing something very wrong), he will wonder what he really did wrong. All he did was just being late in replying an sms. Besides, his girlfriend has been late in replying his messages before too.

On the other end of things, Eve is all worked up, decides to give Adam a cold shoulder and demands to herself that she deserves to be treated better. So now, what is seemingly a small situation had been blown out of proportions because of an innocent mistake. Eve continues to give Adam the cold shoulder for a few days. Adam still wonders why can't Eve forgive him for replying an sms late. Eve has replied more texts late than he has, as far as he remembers. But of course Eve's reasons were "completely valid".

The Business Insider offers some useful advice on how to circumvent this:

You can choose to think about your business's best qualities, not the worst; things to praise your employees about, not things to curse them for; the beautiful way in which your customers buy your products and use your services, not the ugly few who demand a refund. 

For example, it is so easy for us to fill our minds with what we can't do. That's a never-ending list for me. 

Right now, I could say to myself, "There's always something I can't do. Now that I think about it, there's no reason in the world I should ever think that anyone anywhere on this planet would want to read a book about working positively. I don't know why I wrote it. I wasted all this time, energy and money on a book that was supposed to bring me speaking engagements and coaching opportunities so I can transform business people's negative lives into work positive lifestyles." 

See what I mean? Of course it's not just you and me who choose to focus on that "can't do" list. We all do at times. Since your mind focuses on something, anything, it will go to that never-ending list, especially in times of frustration or perceived failure. 

It's so much more empowering to focus your mind on what you can do. No, you might not be able to do correctly what you're attempting on the first try. However, finding something you can do related to the task and focusing on that accomplishment creates a positive perception in your mind. That positive perception then becomes the jet fuel that releases your imagination to work on the rest of the task that presents such a challenge. With that high-octane fuel, your imagination soars to new heights of accomplishment in your business. 

By exercising the positive muscle group of your mind and focusing on profit-enriching activities, pretty soon that which seemed impossible about your business becomes not only doable, but you say to yourself, "I can see my business this way all the time!"

Source: Business Insider

Volume 3 Issue 44: Two-Cent Economics

Price of Women's Underwear

Simply amazed the kind of data you can get on the Internet. I don't know what this chart tells us exactly, but it is certainly interesting to note:

As you can see, the price of women's underwear has shot through the roof. It has far exceeded the price of outerwear and even the headline CPI, which includes the prices of fuel etc. It begs the question, why the heck are women's underwear so expensive? Well, breaking it down to supply and demand, I think it is safe to say that it is not due to the lack of supply. So, it must be due to higher demand.

So, what caused this higher demand? Well, we most certainly cannot attribute it to women's knack for shopping because the price of women's outerwear has pretty much stayed where it was. Here are my guesses based on principles learnt in Economics 101 (although I never actually took that class).

1. Price of related goods
I don't really know what are complements to women's underwear. Not sure what the substitutes are either. But the Business Insider guesses that it is possibly due to the increase in the prices of other luxury goods. For example, a cheap luxury handbag is still cheaper than an expensive bra. This is possible, but I don't think it is that likely. But women, if you are reading this, please let me know if I am wrong.

2. Personal disposable income
I also don't think personal disposable income has increased in the last four years, especially during a recession.

3. Consumer expectations about future prices and income
This suggests that women buy more underwear if they expect the prices of underwear to go higher in the future. It would seem a bit absurd. This would mean that they would be treating underwear like a stock. But then again, who am I to judge the female mind?

4. Tastes and preferences
This is the most likely scenario. Though, I think its a modification of that. I wouldn't say I have done extensive research into the variety of women's underwear, but I would venture that there is an increasing variety of exotic women's underwear. These days, you can find all kinds of visually enhancing, physically enhancing and emotionally enhancing underwear. If you think "emotionally enhancing" sounds a bit far-fetched, let me remind you of the advertisements that tell women that they can now "feel confident" by wearing a certain kind of bra. Not only that, now, there is now an increasing number of purposes for women's underwear, i.e. sports (remember Anna Kournikova's "only the ball should bounce" commercial?), bedroom sports, Halloween (!?) etc. With increased variety comes increased product differentiation. This allows certain companies to carve out a niche market (i.e. Victoria Secret).

5. New market?
This is not really one of the reasons given in Economics 101. What do I mean by new market? While e-commerce has been around for a really long time, I think previously, shopping online for clothing was usually a women's thing. I am being stereotypical, but men in general do not like shopping. In fact, I seriously doubt men would even shop for women's underwear. But e-commerce has facilitated that. Many men feel embarrassed about walking into a lingerie shop and picking out lingerie for their partners, mistresses and whatnot. But now, they can not only browse online, but make purchases discreetly. I don't know much about men who wear women's underwear, but I think it is increasingly popular that men buy underwear for their female partners. I guess the reason is that they buy what they would like to see their partners in. Kinda like women picking out shirts and pants for men. So, there is an entirely new market out there, but I really don't know if this is enough to boost the price up that high.

Another thing about shopping is that men do not know the actual price of these things. In fact, I would venture to say that men would even pay a premium for something that they like. Getting the best bargains is not really men's forte. Also, there really is a lack of alternative. As mentioned above, men generally shy away from walking into a lingerie store and grabbing something for their partners.

All in all, I think it is a combination of a few of the factors mentioned above. This is just an exercise and an application of economic knowledge in the real world. Please enlighten me if you find something that I missed out.

Perhaps, it could be as simple as the fact that women's underwear have been undervalued for a really long time and is only starting to realize its value.

HT: Business Insider

The Real Reason Why Manchester City Is A Contender

After the trashing of Manchester United over the last weekend, some people are beginning to believe that Manchester City are going to be contenders of the title.

I have always been skeptical of one off results. Not because I am a Manchester United fan. Because I am not. Those of you who know me long enough will know. Frankly, after seeing the results of the game, I remember thinking, "These upstarts are going to let the result get to their head and their season will crumble after Christmas".

I have been watching or following the Premier League for a really long time. And if there's one thing that I can take away from every season, it is this simple fact: "Whatever happens before Christmas does not matter". I have seen Kevin Keegan's Newcastle United blow away a 12-point lead in 1995/96.

But what I read today shows some promise:

"“This is only one game,” Mancini (picture) told a news conference. “I think United is one yard above us still ... we can change this only if we win (the title) in the end. After maybe it is different but now United is better than us.”"

This comes from a manager with pure class. After trashing his opponents (the defending champion, no less) with a score of 6-1, he still insists that the opponents are better. This is also reinforced by the fact that Mancini is able to keep Balotelli in check.

This is an example. Balotelli is a double-edged sword. He is super-talented and full of flair. But he is unpredictable and very often overdoes it. This is the huge danger that Manchester City faces. They were in danger of becoming like Balotelli when they beat Manchester United 6-1. But after what Mancini said above, I am inclined to think otherwise. 

Volume 3 Issue 36: Two-Cent Economics

The Folly of Models... Sometimes - Part 2


Taken from Brad DeLong:

John Kay:

Economics: Rituals of rigour: "The two branches of economics most relevant to the recent crisis are macroeconomics and financial economics…. [Macroeconomics's] dominant paradigm is known as “dynamic stochastic general equilibrium” (thankfully abbreviated to DSGE) – a complex model structure that seeks to incorporate, in a single framework, time, risk and the need to take account of the behaviour of many different companies and households. The study of financial markets revolves meanwhile around the “efficient market hypothesis”… and the “capital asset pricing model”…. A close relationship exists between these three theories. But the account of recent events given by proponents of these models was comprehensively false. They proclaimed stability where there was impending crisis, and market efficiency where there was gross asset mispricing….

[M]istaken claims found substantial professional support. In his presidential lecture to the American Economic Association in 2003, Robert Lucas of the University of Chicago, the Nobel prizewinning doyen of modern macroeconomics, claimed that “macroeconomics has succeeded: its central problem of depression prevention has been solved”. Prof Lucas based his assertion on the institutional innovations noted by Mr Greenspan and the IMF authors, and the deeper theoretical insights that he and his colleagues claimed to have derived from models based on DSGE and the capital asset pricing model. The serious criticism of modern macroeconomics is not that its practitioners did not anticipate that Lehman would fall apart on September 15 2008, but that they failed to understand the mechanisms that had put the global economy at grave risk….

The academic debate on austerity versus stimulus centres around a property observed in models based on the DSGE programme. If government engages in fiscal stimulus by spending more or by reducing taxes, people will recognise that such a policy means higher taxes or lower spending in the future. Even if they seem to be better off today, they will later be poorer, and by a similar amount. Anticipating this, they will cut back and government spending will crowd out private spending. This property – sometimes called Ricardian equivalence – implies that fiscal policy is ineffective as a means of responding to economic dislocation.

John Cochrane, Prof Lucas’s Chicago colleague, put forward this “policy ineffectiveness” thesis in a response to an attack by Paul Krugman, Nobel laureate economist, on the influence of the DSGE school…. Cochrane at once acknowledged that the assumptions that give rise to policy ineffectiveness “are, as usual, obviously not true”. For most, that might seem to be the end of the matter…. But Prof Cochrane will not give up so easily. “Economists”, he goes on, “have spent a generation tossing and turning the Ricardian equivalence theory, and assessing the likely effects of fiscal stimulus in its light, generalising the ‘ifs’ and figuring out the likely ‘therefores’. This is exactly the right way to do things.” The programme he describes modifies the core model in ways that make it more complex, but not necessarily more realistic, by introducing parameters to represent failures of the model assumptions that are frequently described as frictions, or “transactions costs”.

Why is this procedure “exactly the right way to do things”? There are at least two alternatives…. Joseph Stiglitz – another Nobel laureate – and his followers favour a model that retains many of the Lucas assumptions but attaches great importance to imperfections of information…. Another possibility is to assume that households respond mechanically to events according to specific behavioural rules, rather like rats in a maze – an approach often called agent-based modelling…. Another line of attack would discard altogether the idea that the economic world can be described by any universal model…. [M]odels, when employed, must be context specific. In that eclectic world Ricardian equivalence is no more than a suggestive hypothesis…. The generation of economists who followed John Maynard Keynes engaged in this ad hoc estimation when they tried to quantify one of the central concepts….

Consistency and rigour are features of a deductive approach, which draws conclusions from a group of axioms – and whose empirical relevance depends entirely on the universal validity of the axioms. The only descriptions that fully meet the requirements of consistency and rigour are completely artificial worlds, such as the “plug-and-play” environments of DSGE – or the Grand Theft Auto computer game.

For many people, deductive reasoning is the mark of science…. But this is an artificial, exaggerated distinction. Scientific progress – not just in applied subjects such as engineering and medicine but also in more theoretical subjects including physics – is frequently the result of observation that something does work, which runs far ahead of any understanding of why it works. Not within the economics profession. There, deductive reasoning based on logical inference from a specific set of a priori deductions is “exactly the right way to do things”…. Economics is not a technique in search of problems but a set of problems in need of solution. Such problems are varied and the solutions will inevitably be eclectic. Such pragmatic thinking requires not just deductive logic but an understanding of the processes of belief formation, of anthropology, psychology and organisational behaviour, and meticulous observation of what people, businesses and governments do.

The belief that models are not just useful tools but are capable of yielding comprehensive and universal descriptions of the world blinded proponents to realities that had been staring them in the face. That blindness made a big contribution to our present crisis, and conditions our confused responses to it. Economists – in government agencies as well as universities – were obsessively playing Grand Theft Auto while the world around them was falling apart.

Volume 3 Issue 35: Two-Cent Economics

The Folly of Models... Sometimes

Jokes aside, while models hardly ever reflects truly what happens in the real world, they are still very important because it gives us a way to think about the real world. It is true that in the real world, there can be no ceteris paribus, but it does allow us to isolate certain variables and analyze their causes and effects.

If you really think about it, everything we do is based on models. For example, how do you know that the next time you push the door, your hand would not penetrate the door and you along with it? How do you know that the next time you turn your car keys at the ignition, the engine will start? Some of these things are done so often that we forget they are derived from models of what we do every day. The models are induced from past experience. Our past experience with doors suggest that when we push against the door, it will open.

What happens when one day, we push against the door, and we fall right through it? The consequences would be mind-boggling. It will totally change the way we perceive doors. Economic modelling is much like that. When things are all fine and dandy as things turn out the way we predict, we tend to go along happily with our lives. When things don't quite turn out the way we expect them to, we become dumbfounded, and stricken with fear or shock. In the stock market, the first reaction of many "investors" would be to panic and sell.

This explains why we need to have good models and frameworks. A good model helps us to think of things in good times and in bad. It tells us when things are turning bad or when people are just panicking for no reason. It tells us whether the sky is really falling when chickens are running helter-skelter screaming, "The sky is falling". When you think about it, this applies not only in economics, but in real life as well. What is your framework for life?

No Child's Play (repost)

Just reposting this, for those of you who have not read it. It describes my experience coaching chess to children and the obstacles faced. Suggestions with the issues raised are helpful.

Illogical Thinking - Part 1 (Love is a fallacy)

Logical thinking appears to be harder to come by more and more these days. For an analyst, logical thinking is extremely crucial because it is of utmost importance to be able to determine the link between cause and effect. We have to know that when one event occurs, it will directly lead to another, and not be deceived by the sheer coincidence of two events happening almost simultaneously must exhibit a causal relationship.

Below is an interesting story which demonstrates in a simple, lighthearted, but extremely useful example of how many people fall into logical traps and use fallacious arguments in their daily lives. In this special series, we first start by understanding what are the existing pitfalls in our arguments. Then, we shall proceed to examine several other issues which show the glaring logical mistakes made by very prominent publications (like the Star, one of the lousiest newspapers around). Enjoy the story below:

Love is a fallacy 
by Max Schulman

Cool was I and logical. Keen, calculating, perspicacious, acute — I was all of these. My brain was as powerful as a dynamo, precise as a chemist’s scales, as penetrating as a scalpel. And – think of it! – I was only eighteen.

It is not often that one so young has such a giant intellect. Take, for example, Petey Burch, my roommate at the University of Minnesota. Same age, same background, but dumb as an ox. A nice enough fellow, you understand, but nothing upstairs. Emotional type. Unstable. Impressionable. Worst of all, a faddist. Fads, I submit, are the very negation of reason. To be swept up in every new craze that comes along, to surrender oneself to idiocy just because everybody else is doing it – this to me, is the acme of mindlessness. Not, however, to Petey.

One afternoon I found Petey lying on his bed with an expression of such distress on his face that I immediately diagnosed appendicitis. “Don’t move,” I said, “Don’t take a laxative. I’ll get a doctor.”

“Raccoon,” he mumbled thickly.

“Raccoon?” I said, pausing in my flight.

“I want a raccon coat,” he wailed.

I perceived that his trouble was not physical but mental.

“Why do you want a raccoon coat?”

“I should have known it,” he cried, pounding his temples.

“I should have known it they’d come back when the Charleston came back. Like a fool I spent all my money for textbook, and now I can’t get a raccoon coat.”

“Can you mean,” I said incredulously,” that people are actually wearing raccoon coats again?”

“All the Big Men on Campus are wearing them. Where’ve you been?”

“In the library,” I said, naming a place not frequented by Big Men on Campus.

He leaped from the bed and paced the room. “I’ve got to have a raccoon coat,” he said passionately. “I’ve got to!”

“Petey, why? Look at it rationally. Raccoon coats are unsanitary. They shed. They smell bad. They weigh too much. They’re unsightly. They…”

“You don’t understand,” he interrupted, impatiently. “It’s the thing to do. Don’t you want to be in the swim?”

“No,” I said truthfully.

“Well, I do,” he declared. “I’d give anything for a raccoon coat. Anything!”

My brain, that precision instrument, slipped into high gear. “Anything?” I asked, looking at him narrowly.

“Anything,” he affirmed in ringing tones.

I stroked my chin thoughtfully. It so happened that I knew where to get my hands on a raccoon coat. My father had had one in his undergraduate days; it lay now in a trunk in the attic back home. It also happened that Petey had something I wanted. He didn’t have it exactly, but at least he had first rights on it. I refer to his girl, Polly Espy.

I had long coveted Polly Espy. Let me emphasize that my desire for this young woman was not emotional in nature. She was, to be sure, a girl who excited the emotions, but I was not one to let my heart rule my head. I wanted Polly For a shrewdly calculated, entirely cerebral reason.

I was a freshman in law school. In a few years I would be out in practice. I was well aware of the importance of the right kind of wife in furthering a lawyer’s career. The successful lawyers I had observed were, almost without exception, married to beautiful, gracious, intelligent women. With one omission, Polly fitted these specifications perfectly.

Beautiful she was. She was not yet of pin-up proportions, but I felt that time would supply the lack. She already had the makings.

Gracious she was. By gracious I mean full of graces. She had an erectness of carriage, an ease of bearing, a poise that clearly indicated the best of breeding. At table her manners were exquisite. I had seen her at the Kozy Kampus Korner eating the specialty of the house – a sandwich that contained scraps of pot roast, gravy, chopped nuts, and a dipper of sauerkraut – without even getting her fingers moist.

Intelligent she was not. In fact, she veered in the opposite direction. But I believed that under my guidance she would smarten up. At any rate, it was worth a try. It is, after all, easier to make a beautiful dumb girl smart than to make an ugly smart girl beautiful.

“Petey,” I said, “are you in love with Polly Espy?”

“I think she’s a keen kid,” he replied, “but I don’t know if you call it love. Why?”

“Do you,” I asked, “have any kind of formal arrangement with her? I mean are you going steady or anything like that?”

“No. We see each other quite a bit, but we both have other dates. Why?”

“Is there,” I asked, “any other man for whom she has a particular fondness?”

“Not that I know of. Why?”

I nodded with satisfaction. “In other words, if you were out of the picture, the field would be open. Is that right?”

“I guess so. What are you getting at?”

“Nothing , nothing,” I said innocently, and took my suitcase out the closet.

“Where are you going?” asked Petey.

“Home for weekend.” I threw a few things into the bag.

“Listen,” he said, clutching my arm eagerly, “while you’re home, you couldn’t get some money from your old man, could you, and lend it to me so I can buy a raccoon coat?”

“I may do better than that,” I said with a mysterious wink and closed my bag and left.

. . .
“Look,” I said to Petey when I got back Monday morning. I threw open the suitcase and revealed the huge, hairy, gamy object that my father had worn in his Stutz Bearcat in 1925.

“Holy Toledo!” said Petey reverently. He plunged his hands into the raccoon coat and then his face. “Holy Toledo!” he repeated fifteen or twenty times.

“Would you like it?” I asked.

“Oh yes!” he cried, clutching the greasy pelt to him. Then a canny look came into his eyes. “What do you want for it?”

“Your girl.” I said, mincing no words.

“Polly?” he said in a horrified whisper. “You want Polly?”
“That’s right.”

He shook his head.

I shrugged. “Okay. If you don’t want to be in the swim, I guess it’s your business.”

I sat down in a chair and pretended to read a book, but out of the corner of my eye I kept watching Petey. He was a torn man. First, he looked at the coat with the expression of waif at a bakery window. Then he turned away and set his jaw resolutely. Then he looked back at the coat, with even more longing in his face. Then he turned away, but with not so much resolution this time. Back and forth his head swiveled, desire waxing, resolution waning. Finally he didn’t turn away at all; he just stood and stared with mad lust at the coat.

“It isn’t as though I was in love with Polly,” he said thickly. “Or going steady or anything like that.”

“That’s right,” I murmured.

“What’s Polly to me, or me to Polly?”

“Not a thing,” said I.

“It’s just been a casual kick – just a few laughs, that’s all.”

“Try on the coat,” said I.

He complied. The coat bunched high over his ears and dropped all the way down to his shoe tops. He looked like a mound of dead raccoons. “Fits fine,” he said happily.

I rose from my chair. “Is it a deal?” I asked, extending my hand. He swallowed. “It’s a deal,” he said and shook my hand.

I had my first date with Polly the following evening. This was in the nature of a survey. I wanted to find out just how much work I had to get her mind up to the standard I required. I took her first to dinner.

“Gee, that was a delish dinner,” she said as we left the restaurant.

And then I took her home. “Gee, I had a sensaysh time,” she said as she bade me good night.

I went back to my room with a heavy heart. I had gravely underestimated the size of my task. This girl’s lack of information was terrifying. Nor would it be enough merely to supply her with information. First she had to be taught to “think”. This loomed as a project of no small dimensions, and at first I was tempted to give her back to Petey.

But then I got to thinking about her abundant physical charms and about the way she entered a room and the way she handled a knife and fork, and I decided to make an effort.
I went about it, as in all things, systematically. I gave her a course in logic. It happened that I, as a law student, was taking a course in logic myself, so I had all the facts at my fingertips. “Polly,” I said to her when I picked her up on our next date, “tonight we are going over to the Knoll and talk.”

“Oo, terrif,” she replied. One thing I will say for this girl: you would go far to find another so agreeable.

We went to the Knoll, the campus trysting place, and we sat down under an old oak, and she looked at me expectantly.

“What are we going to talk about?” she asked.

“Logic.”

She thought this over for a minute and decided she liked it. “Magnif,” she said.

Logic,” I said, clearing my throat, “is the science of thinking. Before we can think correctly, we must first learn to recognize the common fallacies of logic. These we will take up tonight.”

“Wow-dow!” she cried, clapping her hands delightedly.

I winced, but went bravely on. “First let us examine the fallacy called Dicto Simpliciter.”

“By all means,” she urged, batting her lashes eagerly.

“Dicto Simpliciter means an argument based on an unqualified generalization. For example: Exercise is good. Therefore everybody should exercise.”

“Polly,” I said gently, “the argument is a fallacy. Exercise is good is an unqualified generalization. For instance, if you have heart disease, exercise is bad, not good. Therefore exercise is bad, not good. Many people are ordered by their doctors not to exercise. You must qualify the generalization. You must say exercise is usually good, or exercise is good for most people. Otherwise you have committed a Dicto Simpliciter. Do you see?”

“No,” she confessed. “But this is marvy. Do more! Do more!”

“It will be better if you stop tugging at my sleeve,” I told her, and when she desisted, I continued. “Next we take up a fallacy called Hasty Generalization. Listen carefully: You can’t speak French. Petey Burch can’t speak French. I must therefore conclude that nobody at the University of Minnesota can speak French.”

“Really?” said Polly, amazed. “Nobody?”

I hid my exasperation. “Polly, it’s a fallacy. The generalization is reached too hastily. There are too few instance to support such a conclusion.”

Know any more fallacies?” she asked breathlessly. “This is more fun than dancing, even.”

I fought off a wave of despair. I was getting nowhere with this girl, absolutely nowhere. Still, I am nothing, if not persistent. I continued. “Next comes Post Hoc (false cause). Listen to this: Let’s not take Bill on our picnic. Every time we take him out with us, it rains.”

“I know somebody just like that,” she exclaimed. “A girl back home – Eula Becker, her name is. It never fails. Every single time we take her on a picnic…”

“Polly,” I said sharply, “it’s a fallacy. Eula Becker doesn’t cause the rain. She has no connection with the rain. You are guilty of Post Hoc if you blame Eula Becker.”

“I’ll never do it again,” she promised contritely. “Are you mad at me?”

I sighed deeply. “No, Polly, I’m not mad.”

“Then tell me some more fallacies.”

“All right. Let’s try Contradictory Premises.”

“Yes, let’s,” she chirped, blinking her eyes happily.
I frowned, but plunged ahead. “Here’s an example of Contradictory Premises: If God can do anything, can He make a stone so heavy that He won’t be able to lift it?”

“Of course,” she replied promptly.

“But if He can do anything, He can lift the stone,” I pointed out.

“Yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “Well, then I guess He can’t make the stone.”

“But He can do anything,” I reminded her.

She scratched her pretty, empty head. “I’m all confused,” she admitted.

“Of course you are. Because when the premises of an argument contradict each other, there can be no argument. If there is an irresistible force, there can be no immovable object. If there is an immovable object, there can be no irresistible force. Get it?”

“Tell me more of this keen stuff,” she said eagerly.

I consulted my watch. “I think we’d better call it a night.

I’ll take you home now, and you go over all the things you’ve learned. We’ll have another session tomorrow night.”

I deposited her at the girls’ dormitory, where she assured me that she had had a “perfectly” evening, and I went glumly home to my room. Petey lay snoring in his bed, the raccoon coat huddled like a great hairy beast at his feet. For a moment I considered waking him and telling him that he could have his girl back. It seemed clear that my project was doomed to failure. The girl simply had a logic-proof head.

But then I reconsidered. I had wasted one evening; I might as well waste another. Who knew? Maybe somewhere in the extinct crater of her mind, a few embers still smoldered. Maybe somehow I could fan them into flame. Admittedly it was not a prospect fraught with hope, but I decided to give it one more try.

Seated under the oak the next evening I said, “Our first fallacy tonight is called Ad Misericordiam (appeal to pity).”

She quivered with delight.

“Listen closely,” I said. “A man applies for a job. When the boss asks him what his qualifications are, he has a wife and six children at home, the wife is a helpless cripple, the children have nothing to eat, no clothes to wear, no shoes on their feet, there are no beds in the house, no coal in the cellar, and winter is coming.”

A tear rolled down each of Polly’s pink cheeks. “Oh, this is awful, awful,” she sobbed.

“Yes, it’s awful,” I agreed, “but it’s no argument. The man never answered the boss’s question about his qualifications. Instead he appealed to the boss’s sympathy. He committed the fallacy of Ad Misericordiam. Do you understand?”

“Have you got a handkerchief?” she blubbered.

I handed her a handkerchief and tried to keep from screaming while she wiped her eyes. “Next,” I said in a carefully controlled tone, “we will discuss False Analogy (a form of forgetful induction). Here is an example: Students should be allowed to look at their textbooks during examination. After all, surgeons have X rays to guide them during a trial, carpenters have blueprints to guide them when they are building a house. Why, then, shouldn’t students be allowed to look at their textbooks during examination?”

“There now,” she said enthusiastically, “is the most marvy idea I’ve heard in years.”

“Polly,” I said testily, “the argument is all wrong. Doctors, lawyers, and carpenters aren’t taking a test to see how much they have learned, but students are. The situations are altogether different, and you can’t make an analogy between them.”

“I still think it’s a good idea,” said Polly.

“Nuts,” I muttered. Doggedly I pressed on. “Next we’ll try Hypothesis Contrary to Fact (non sequitur).”

“Sounds yummy,” was Polly’s reaction.

“Listen: If Madame Curie had not happened to leave a photographic plate in a drawer with a chunk of pitchblende, the world today would not know about radium.”

“True, true,” said Polly, nodding her head “Did you see the movie? Oh, it just knocked me out. That Walter Pidgeon is so dreamy. I mean he fractures me.”

“If you can forget Mr. Pidgeon for a moment,” I said coldly, “I would like to point out that the statement is a fallacy. Maybe Madame Curie would have discovered radium at some later date. Maybe somebody else would have discovered it. Maybe any number of things would have happened. You can’t start with a hypothesis that is not true and then draw any supportable conclusions from it.”

“They ought to put Walter Pidgeon in more pictures,” said Polly, “I hardly ever see him any more.”

One more chance, I decided. But just one more. There is a limit to what flesh and blood can bear. “The next fallacy is called Poisioning the Well.”

“How cute!” she gurgled.

“Two men are having a debate. The first one gets up and says, ‘My opponent is a notorious liar. You can’t believe a word that he is going to say.’ … Now, Polly, think hard. What’s wrong?”

I watched her closely as she knit her creamy brow in concentration. Suddenly a glimmer of intelligence — the first I had seen — came into her eyes. “It’s not fair,” she said with indignation. “It’s not a bit fair. What chance has the second man got if the first man calls him a liar before he even begins talking?”

“Right!” I cried exultantly. “One hundred per cent right. It’s not fair. The first man has poisoned the well before anybody could drink from it. He has hamstrung his opponent before he could even start … Polly, I’m proud of you.”

“Pshaws,” she murmured, blushing with pleasure.

“You see, my dear, these things aren’t so hard. All you have to do is concentrate. Think-examine-evaluate. Come now, let’s review everything we have learned.”

“Fire away,” she said with an airy wave of her hand.

Heartened by the knowledge that Polly was not altogether a cretin, began a long, patient review of all I had told her. Over and over and over again I cited instances, pointed out flaws, kept hammering away without letup. It was like digging a tunnel. At first, everything was work, sweat, and darkness. I had no idea when I would reach the light, or even if I would. But I persisted. I pounded and clawed and scraped, and finally I was rewarded. I saw a chink of light. And then the chink got bigger and the sun came pouring in and all was bright.

Five grueling nights with this book was worth it. I had made a logician out of Polly; I had taught her to think. My job was done. She was worthy of me, at last. She was a fit wife for me, a proper hostess for many mansions, a suitable mother for my well-heeled children.

It must not be thought that I was without love for this girl. Quite the contrary. Just as Pygmalion loved mine. I determined to acquaint her with feelings at our very next meeting. The time had come to change our relationship from academic to romantic.

“Polly,” I said when next we sat beneath our oak, “tonight we will not discuss fallacies.”

“Aw, gee,” she said, disappointed.

“My dear,” I said, favoring her with a smile, “we have now spent five evenings together. We have gotten along
splendidly. It is clear that we are well matched.”

“Hasty Generalization,” said Polly brightly.

“I beg your pardon,” said I.

“Hasty Generalization,” she repeated. “How can you say that we are well matched on the basis of only five dates?”

I chuckled with amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons well. “My dear,” I said, patting her hand in a tolerant manner, “five dates is plenty. After all, you don’t have to eat a whole cake to know that it’s good.”

“False Analogy,” said Polly promptly. “I’m not a cake. I’m a girl.”

I chuckled with somewhat less amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons perhaps too well. I decided to change tactics. Obviously the best approach was a simple, strong, direct declaration of love. I paused for a moment while my massive brain chose the proper word. Then I began:

“Polly, I love you. You are the whole world to me, and the moon and the stars and the constellations of outer space. Please, my darling, say that you will go steady with me, for if you will not, life will be meaningless. I will languish. I will refuse my meals. I will wander the face of the earth, a shambling, hollow-eyed hulk.”

There, I thought, folding my arms, that ought to do it.

“Ad Misericordiam,” said Polly.

I ground my teeth. I was not Pygmalion; I was Frankenstein, and my monster had me by the throat. Frantically I fought back the tide of panic surging through me; at all costs I had to keep cool.

“Well, Polly,” I said, forcing a smile, “you certainly have learned your fallacies.”

“You’re darn right,” she said with a vigorous nod.

“And who taught them to you, Polly?”

“You did.”

“That’s right. So you do owe me something, don’t you, my dear? If I hadn’t come along you never would have learned about fallacies.”

“Hypothesis Contrary to Fact,” she said instantly.

I dashed perspiration from my brow. “Polly,” I croaked, “you mustn’t take all these things so literally. I mean this is just classroom stuff. You know that the things you learn in school don’t have anything to do with life.”

“Dicto Simpliciter,” she said, wagging her finger at me playfully.

That did it. I leaped to my feet, bellowing like a bull. “Will you or will you not go steady with me?”

“I will not,” she replied.

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because this afternoon I promised Petey Burch that I would go steady with him.”

I reeled back, overcome with the infamy of it. After he promised, after he made a deal, after he shook my hand!

“The rat!” I shrieked, kicking up great chunks of turf.

“You can’t go with him, Polly. He’s a liar. He’s a cheat. He’s a rat.”

“Poisoning the Well ,” said Polly, “and stop shouting. I think shouting must be a fallacy too.”

With an immense effort of will, I modulated my voice. “All right,” I said. “You’re a logician. Let’s look at this thing logically. How could you choose Petey Burch over me? Look at me — a brilliant student, a tremendous intellectual, a man with an assured future. Look at Petey — a knothead, a jitterbug, a guy who’ll never know where his next meal is coming from. Can you give me one logical reason why you should go steady with Petey Burch?”

“I certainly can,” declared Polly. “He’s got a raccoon coat.”

Volume 3 Issue 24: Two-Cent Economics

The Downside of Being a High Achiever

This is one of the best articles that I have read recently. It is a very long article, so be forewarned. It is definitely worth the time.

Here is one of my favorite parts:

Focus on the Long Term

Major goals can withstand interim setbacks. When you are looking at the big picture, you often give yourself more latitude to make a few missteps.

One lawyer with a passion for civil liberties, Steven, told us of an experience writing a brief that was in an area of law that lay outside his experience. He was paralyzed by the prospect of looking incompetent to the members of the legal community he admired most. That the subject matter was only slightly out of his area of expertise made it all the more daunting—he felt he should know instinctively how to respond.

Steven realized that he had to grant himself the permission to be mediocre—an appalling prospect for achievers.

He weighed the possible consequences of a subpar brief against the broader benefits of expanding his expertise and making an influential contribution to the case. As it turned out, his work on the brief garnered him additional respect from his colleagues. It was a solid effort that demonstrated his ability to stretch beyond his comfort zone.

Long-term success requires some willingness to commit to necessary short-term risks. High achievers often let their fear of failure stop them from taking those chances.

That was the case with Rick, a respected professor but a dismal team player. His students loved him, but his peers were increasingly vocal about his refusal to contribute at an organizational level. He couldn’t be counted on to complete any work other than what was on his own to-do list. Rick consciously ignored his colleagues’ feedback, in part because he knew he was less talented at organizational tasks.

Mostly, though, he was just too self-absorbed to pay attention to anything other than his own teaching, research, and publishing agenda. Unfortunately, Rick’s inability to see the big picture was his undoing, and his contract was not renewed.

In his next position, Rick resolved to do things differently. He invested time and effort in shoring up his organizational abilities. Though he worried initially about not focusing his all energies on teaching, his farsightedness paid off: He’s now one of the most highly regarded professors in his department—on all counts. He still feels anxiety about his weaknesses—that’s who he is—and in a way it’s what makes him great. He’s never satisfied.

Doing the right thing poorly is painful for high achievers. It’s much more satisfying to do something well, even if it’s not the best use of your time.

Moving your A game to a new level or in a new direction takes humility, it takes practice, and it takes patience (not necessarily your strong suit). But it’s a necessary step on the road to doing the right thing well.

I have been preaching about long term thinking for a while now. This article just puts it aptly, among other amazing things.

Volume 3 Issue 3: Two-Cent Economics

The Entitlement Attitude - Part 2

From part 1, we saw how Malaysian fresh graduates develop their entitlement attitude. In the last issue, we discussed the high demands of fresh graduates in terms of benefits and pay before accepting a job. In this issue, we will look at some further examples of Malaysian fresh graduates with extremely poor attitude.

Another common manifestation of the entitlement attitude is in the high frequency that Malaysian fresh graduates hop jobs. Typically a lot of these fresh graduates change jobs within six months of starting work. One of the most common reasons is that they feel that they are not interested in the job. Or in other words, they find it boring.

Usually, this is not so much because the job is mundane, but because in the first six months of a job, there is only so much a newbie can do. The fresh graduates have yet to pick up all the necessary skills and knowledge to contribute meaningfully to the business. In the mean time, they are stuck with what they think are basic and menial jobs to familiarize themselves with the workplace and culture. In less than six months, there is really not much they can learn about their job, much less learn about the career that they are trying to pursue. Such is the naivete and impatience of Malaysian fresh graduates.

What makes it worse is that they typically resign from their positions before they are able to get a new one. There is so much complacency that they would rather remain jobless for weeks and months on end than stick it out with their existing job. In the face of a little discomfort, Malaysian fresh graduates react in their ever-so-big shot kind of way with their nose held high by leaving their jobs without future plans.

Then they take a several month hiatus to go on a backpacking trip in the Andes or Alps or somewhere exotic like that. All under the account of their parents. There is seriously no embarrassment in being completely dependent on their parents. In fact, they still feel like their parents owe it to them.

Another main complaint from Malaysian fresh graduates is that their job is too troublesome. Some of these fresh graduates feel that going out of their way to complete a task is not within their job scope. They even have the nerve to cite the fact that the related task was not spelled out in their offer letter, therefore it is not their responsibility to complete the task. Did they forget that whatever the task that needs to be done is most likely for the sake of the clients? Be it in sales, or in manufacturing, or in the finance industry, the clients are the ones that ultimately pay their salary. If the company does not take care of its clients, then there will be no future business. If there is no future business, the company would then have to shut down, and guess who will be out of a job?

There will be times when we are called upon to go out of our way to cater for the needs of the clients. In fact, one should even feel proud to be able to render this extra service to our customers because we have managed to make their lives better. In doing that, they may even give the company further recurring business. One must not underestimate how a little effort can go a long way. I have already shared the story about great customer service  and first world thinking here.

Needless to say, the list goes on. My goal is not just to highlight the poor attitude that is inherent Malaysian fresh graduates. In fact, the group I am referring to may not even cover ALL Malaysian fresh graduates, but it is safe to say that many (enough) are in this group that they need to be made aware of the atrocities that they are portraying. So until now, the goal was to hopefully create the self-awareness to brutally examine our own thoughts and actions to see if we were guilty of such entitlement behavior.

In the next part, we will look at some ideas on how we can overcome this entitlement attitude in a useful and realistic manner.

Economics @ Home © Volume 2 Issue 21

No Child's Play

I wrote this article in my blog when I was still studying at Bucknell University and was volunteering as a chess coach for a group of 8 year-olds. I still find this experience very interesting and thought-provoking, and so I would like to re-share it in Econ @ Home in case you missed it the first time.

Who ever thought teaching chess to 8 year-old kids can involve difficult decision-making and carefully chosen words? There are two issues that I would like to address today.

I think we should all understand that kids like to win. I have in my life only encountered one exception, but I will talk about this later. But let's just accept the generalization that kids like to win. So one of the kids that I have been "teaching" to (out of 8 other kids), is what seems like a beginner among beginners. Just to note, I don't like to use the word "teach" because it's more like sharing to me. It is obvious that he is trying hard and is willing to try hard, but just can't seem to beat the rest of the kids. So on this fine day, his father pulled me aside and told me that he is really trying and asked if I could give him some encouragement. So that troubled me. Firstly, now the parents have expectations on me. I hate it when people tell me how to do my job, at least when I am supposed to be good at it. I don't claim to be something like a Grandmaster or anywhere close to that, but I can say without boasting that I am pretty knowledgeable when it comes to chess. Now to say that I hate this situation would be an exaggeration because he didn't tell me what to do, he just asked politely. So I am just mildly troubled/irritated. Irritated because of the above-mentioned preference, but troubled because I don't know what to do. You see, even years of practice in encouraging girlfriends who needed to be encouraged did not train me to encourage an 8 year-old. How do you tell an 8 year-old who hates to lose, loves to win, that it's OK to lose, and our goal here is to get him to improve so that he can win in the future. For an 8 year-old, the end of the one hour chess session IS the future. Anything else that happens two hours from his arrival at the chess session is a new day altogether. I am not belittling a child's mindset, but merely stating their thought process. Because to him, being better 6 months from now is simply not worth the effort. He wants to start kicking butts now. I mean, if the we invented instant noodles and other magical thingamabobs, who can blame them for expecting instant results?

I tried to think hard about the time when I started chess. What was it like and how did I overcome losing? Maybe overcome is not the right word, because obviously, the way to overcome losing is to win. Hahaha... So how did I accept losing? Why did I get better? How did I get better? This ties back to the earlier point I made about what Kasparov and Abraham Lincoln were trying to say. It is very important to understand ourselves and where we are. I don't mean to preach but some messages just cannot be said enough. I remembered my first tournament. It was the PFS Open 1992. Back then, I could only watch in the sidelines the games played out by Chuah Heng Meng, Eric Cheah and many other "untouchables" who were always playing in the top five boards. To be honest, I didn't even bother watching because there was no way I could have understood the games. But I remember this one game. I was playing against a girl's MSSM U-20 champion. At that time, I was definitely no match for her. I was down a lot of material. With only a queen, bishop and a few pawns left, I set up a mating cheapo on White's g2 square. While barely staying alive, I managed to finally place my queen and bishop in that holy diagonal and got the checkmate that I was pining for 5 moves before that. A cheapo indeed! But of course, before the game, I had no idea she was an MSSM champion and my dad was very surprised that I won. Everything might have changed if I had known. My whole life would have taken a completely different path. I might have played the game knowing that I would lose, and would eventually lose. I would then go on to be an average player not knowing that I have a tricky mind, even as a kid. Or maybe my chess development was fated... Who knows? I'd like to think that it's little moments like these in our lives that are significant, and that we won't realize it unless we think about them.

I was 8 years-old when that happened. Why is it that I can remember only that game from 16 years ago. I don't remember any other game from when I was eight. That game was by no means brilliant. Upon hindsight, the only thing that can explain this phenomena, other than my powerful memory, is that for some reason, I was encouraged by that game. I can safely say that before I came to university, I have received no encouragement or a "well done" from either of my parents. I remember in National Age-Group 1999 where I squandered a half-point lead going into the final round. I drew a game after losing my queen because of the "touch-move" rule. I got over-excited over the idea of winning the tournament with a 10 move combination and in style. What was more devastating was that I could have won after losing my queen but I took a cheeky draw offer. I was so excited about winning that I played the wrong first move of the combination. A perfect lesson on "counting your chickens before they are hatched". Nevertheless, the point of this story was to say that despite this devastating loss, I did not even get "It's OK, you can try again next year". Did I wish I got a word of encouragement or two? I don't know. Would I have been weaker? Because it definitely wasn't OK to lose in a tournament of such importance. By the way, I tied for first place and lost in the blitz playoffs. No "Congratulations" for second place, no "It's OK" for not being first. How did that affect me? Did that make me stronger? Wiser? Most probably so. But I was already 15 then. Half of that lifetime ago, did I think that winning was everything? I loved to win. No doubt about that. But what I am trying drive home is that my experience has not taught me about giving words of encouragement. You lose, time after time, you think about why you lose, and you fix it. That's the kind of education that I got and was expected of me.

So back to the point of this issue, which is, if you can remember, how do you encourage an 8 year-old kid who is trying hard but not getting the fruits of his labor? As I write this article and think about it, the only words of comfort that I can come up with are "The other kids have been playing much longer than you have, and if you keep working hard the way you do, you may well become better than them in no time". Does that even sound honest? Because I hate telling lies, especially to kids. I hate being lied to as a kid. Maybe that's where I get my lying abilities from. Because I get lied to all the time. But that's another story for another day. So if any of you people have any ideas on how to deal with this kid, let me know.

As for the second issue, which is kind of similar to the first, and has the same underlying problem. Another kid in the group who also loves to win, repeatedly asked for my permission to play against the aforementioned kid. Now the reason is obvious because he will get to win all the time. He went so far as to lie to me about not having played against the other kid yet. So this kid is by no means close to being the weakest player in the group. If anything, he is one of the better players. The key difference here is that he does not need encouragement. But the trouble is, how do I explain to him that winning is not everything? To him, winning IS everything. Can I, dare I, should I dash his dreams and desires at a tender age of eight? We all want kids to dream big, be all they can be and all that good stuff. I can't just send the roof crashing down on him and tell him that in life, we cannot beat everyone at everything.

So I did not allow this kid, Brad, to play against the previous kid, Aaron. See the problem when parents try to interfere with my job? Now I don't want Aaron to keep losing, so I told Brad that you can't and shouldn't keep playing Aaron if you want to improve. I tried to explain to him the concept of "It's OK to lose" and the main purpose of our chess sessions is to help them improve so that they can win more in the future. I think that even though he understood the message deep down inside, he kept it inside him that he didn't like my decision to not let him play Aaron. I can deal with a kid not liking me or whatever. But how could I have avoided the situation? What could I have said to appease a kid who loves to win, and yet help him to improve? That answer was the best I could come up with, so if you have better ideas, let me know.

That marks the end of the two issues that I had, and now, as promised I will return to the exception of the generalization that I had asserted, which was all kids love to win. So a third kid in this group, Chuck, who in the previous week, intentionally lost to Brad to make him happy. He said to me that well, he would rather someone else be happy since it's not a "real" tournament. By the way, the background story is that I organized a tournament for them and put a prize up for grabs. So Chuck doesn't feel like this is a real tournament because it's not officially organized by some recognized group or whatever. So he decides to let Brad win and I saw him intentionally throw a won game. It wasn't an excuse he gave for losing. I knew he saw how he could have won. I have the ability to see what moves other people are thinking about. When you have played chess for as long as I have, these things just come naturally. I just couldn't understand why a kid would do that because as we know it, "Winning is not everything, it is the ONLY thing!"

Anyway, it's just something to leave you people with. Dealing with children is most definitely no child's play. Man, I can't wait to get a kid a torture him with all kinds of psychological tricks. But that's just me. I am not saying I am ready to raise a kid. I just wanna see how messed up they will become. Hahaha...

Economics @ Home © Volume 2 Issue 6

Where We Belong

The title seems to suggest that every person has a predetermined place in this world. It is as if everything has been determined by fate. No, we will never talk about fate. At least not within the foreseeable future. What I would like to suggest is that, whatever path that we choose to take in life, we will eventually get to where we belong. Well, that doesn't really explain much, does it? What I intend to say is that whatever we do in life, we will get whatever we deserve eventually.

Now, what does that even mean? It is sort of like karma, except I believe karma is a long term concept (really long term, as in, the Keynesian concept of long term). For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Keynesian concept of long term, basically, what Keynes said was, "In the long run, we are all dead". Karma is a system that goes beyond our current lifetime. What I would like to discuss today deals with just our current lifetime, obviously because I have no prior experience with the after life, and most definitely no recollection of the before life.

I also realize that there is really no point in typing a long article, unless I have a really interesting story to share. So, in this case, I will strive to just make my point as clear and concise as possible and leave you to think about the rest. We hear about things like, "Do unto others as you would others do unto you" and all kinds of mumbo jumbo that have a similar tone. I personally believe that life isn't fair. There is no equal reaction to every action. In fact, Newton's  Third Law states that to every action, there is an equal AND OPPOSITE reaction. Sounds like a good deed will be repaid with a bad one if you ask me. So clearly Newton's Law does not apply in the metaphysical.

Nonetheless, what I propose is a system not unlike karma. We accumulate deeds, good or bad, throughout our lifetime, and at the summit of our lives, we are given everything that we truly deserve in that lifetime. Let us consider a few examples. Be warned that these examples can appear radical, and maybe cynical, but hopefully engaging.

First, let us consider a typical middle class white collar worker. He works hard as a child, a teen, and continues to work hard throughout his career and provides sufficiently for his family. He owns a middle class home, loves his wife, and has three beautiful children. Nothing spectacular. His lives a happy life, or at least it appears to be. What I am trying to point out is, he worked hard his whole life, did everything a good man is supposed to do, without venturing into anything extraordinary, and is thus rewarded with a perfectly contented family that cares for him as much as he cares for them. But along the way, I am certain that he would have faced many trials and tribulations just simply because life isn't easy like that. But at the end of the day, as he retires and contemplates his life, he realizes that he may not have accomplished much with regards to saving the world, but his life was meaningful, because he will always be remembered by the people who love him the most. He got exactly what he deserved. He gave his all for the people he loved the most, and in return, he got everything that they could give for him.

Let us now jump to the opposite end of the spectrum. What about a poverty stricken child in Africa? He was born with HIV, raised eating whatever root his mother could harvest that morning, and when he is lucky, he would get to eat some of the leftovers of the aid that whatever rich country provided for the Africans. He most probably did not deserve to be born in such conditions. One could even claim that he is lucky that his life will be a short one. That child would die 3 months after his tenth birthday. From the get-go, he was never given the opportunity to achieve much. For however short the moments that he was living, he was probably more of a burden than anything to his mother. Yet, his mother kept him alive for as long as she could. He would never have done much in his life, but for the 10 years that he was in this world, he returned the gift of his life by providing the kind of happiness that only a mother can understand after giving birth to a child. He deserved a short life, for, if he were to live much longer, only goodness knows how much longer he would have to suffer. Nonetheless, with that said, I sincerely hope that one day, there would be no poverty left in this world. I only wish that some day, children in Africa can live well up to their eighties having contributed meaningfully in making this world a better place.

As for us, we are but a quarter of the way through our lives (probably). What lies ahead for us? Our paths were not determined the day we were born. At least I hope not. Every single day we wake up is a day for us to garner every ounce of what we hope to deserve at the pinnacle of our existence. We can choose to dwell on the vicissitudes of life (Wow, I just wet my pants for using a word like vicissitudes in a sentence), and get stuck with trying to outdo one another in our lives. We can choose to complain and bitch about how life is so unfair to us, and how we deserve so much more. Some people just give up and stop trying. Some people go to the extent of exacting vengeance to those who have offended them. Not in the way that they do it in "Die Hard" movies, but in the subtle way that we are all capable of in the evil part of our minds. But eventually, be warned that this will all catch up to us.

I am not God, or anything close to that. But I have faith, that life balances itself. It may seem that around every corner, life is just waiting to pounce on our fragile existence, testing us with its vicious storms, consuming us with its appetite for disasters. But as we overcome these challenges, or move on from our failures, and sticking it out until we get to the top, I certainly hope that at the end of the dark tunnel, we will all get to the place where we truly belong. In the mean time, think about what you hope to deserve, and perhaps find that path that will lead you towards that place where you belong.