A Cats Chance in Hell
Jim Brown was a statistician –are very good statistician. He was a modest self-effacing man who knew his own limitations, those of his subject and what it had to offer. Those who commissioned him appreciated his caution and his refusal to go further than the data at his disposal would allow. It had saved more than one chief executive from himself. Occasionally Jim's insistence on accuracy and rigour made him enemies, serious ones at that. There was a famous occasion when on the” Today “programme a leading politician had insultingly berated him and his profession over the failure to predict the results of the last general election. Other statisticians in other interviews had been defensive and apologetic. Not Him." Minister," he retorted, “Statisticians like the politician who use them and incidentally occasionally abuse them, deal in probability not certainty. If you don't understand that, then perhaps you are in the wrong business."
There was more to Jim and those who dealt with this somewhat pedantic and socially rather gauche man in his business life ever imagined. He had a wife, Heather, six years younger than himself whom he adored and two healthy children. There was a black-haired green eyed daughter of seven and a nine year old rugby playing son. His was the family life that others only dream about. Both children were more interested in sports and the visual arts, and on present showing would certainly not follow in their father’s sedentary statistical footsteps. Jim was delighted. He did not understand or even appreciate half the things his children did and enjoyed doing. He just rejoiced in their doing it and did everything he could to support them in their interests.
One Saturday evening last November, Heather had dragged him off to a friend's dinner party. His fellow guests were all business people and he had not much to contribute to the polite chitchat which takes place on these occasions. Over coffee, someone raised the subject of EuroMillions and the National Lottery. This was one of Jim's bete noire Here was Jim's chance to air it and he took more than full advantage of it. The odds are of 45 million to one against winning the jackpot and 139 to one for the EuroMillions jackpot.
“Oh, but if I buy two tickets does that mean I double my chances of winning?” Inquired his hostess.
Jim smiled just a little condescendingly.” I am afraid not. It only increases your chance from one in 45 million to two in 45 million or one in 139 million to two You stand a better chance of being electrocuted by your refrigerator than winning a jackpot. The more honest slogan for the National Lottery should be ‘You have to be in it to lose it ‘ "
“What about these so-called experts that claim to advise you on what numbers to pick?" Enquired another guest.
It's a con. my dog stands as good a chance of picking the winning numbers as they do."
“Come off it Jim!” that's going a bit far! How could your dog pick six or eight or so numbers?”
How indeed? and in the next few days Jim wrestled with the problem. The rest of his family were highly amused. It turned out to be simple. He took 50 dog biscuits and randomly allocated them to various parts of the house and the garden. The food-obsessed black lab Bruno was let loose. Jim recorded the numbers of the first eight biscuits Bruno found and then for good measure the second eight.
That should've been that – But it wasn't.” Why don't you go the whole hog and enter them EuroMillions draw as well this Saturday?” said his wife.
So that's what they did. The EuroMillons jackpot stood at £110 million. Bruno’s selection won it. Not only that but his other selection won the second prize in the National Lottery,
It was a disaster and both Jim and his wife knew it.
“This could be the end of us like it has been for so many others“ Jim said to his wife. “We will be hounded by the press, pursued by charities, confidence tricksters and financial advisors. Our life won't be worth living."
“Hounded indeed!” said his wife ruefully, “Particularly if the media find out “ it was the dog what did it!”
They thought long and hard. They could now do anything, buy anything, go anywhere they wanted. But what did they want? What would life be about if there were no boundaries,
if there were no limits to what you could do and perhaps no meaning to it when you did it?
As they were, they were happy enough. They had friends they knew and liked.
They had a house they had spent years paying for and improving. They had put a lot of themselves. into that. They lived in the neighbourhood they knew well, and had jobs that they enjoyed.
By Sunday evening they had decided on a strategy. They were happy as they were and they intended to stay that way.
“We can however take out some insurance, get private medicine, money for the kids education add a reasonable contingency fund. We can top up our pensions and perhaps reserve a little extra for the holidays we know we enjoy.” Said Heather.
And that's what they decided to do.
"There is one more thing." Said Jim as they went upstairs to bed.” If a dog can win the EuroMillions lottery then perhaps a cat stands a better chance in hell than is commonly supposed."
©John Hilbourne