much to do with anything. Success is presented cynically, as the product of wile and promotion or the lucky surge of interest for reasons completely external to the works themselves. Lucien discovers the existence of the immense cemetery inhabited by what Balzac calls “nightingales”.
Lucien was told that this designation “nightingale” was given by bookstores to those works residing on the shelves in the solitary depths of their shops.
Balzac presents to us the sorry state of contemporary literature when Lucien’s manuscript is rejected by a publisher who has never read it; later on, when Lucien’s reputation has developed, the very same manuscript is accepted by another publisher who did not read it either! The work itself was a secondary consideration.
In another example of silent evidence, the book’s characters keep bemoaning that things are no longer as they were
I mentioned earlier that to understand successes and analyze what
Numerous studies of millionaires aimed at figuring out the skills required for hotshotness follow the following methodology. They take a population of hotshots, those with big titles and big jobs, and study their attributes. They look at what those big guns have in common: courage, risk taking, optimism, and so on, and infer that these traits, most notably risk taking, help you to become successful. You would also probably get the same impression if you read CEOs’ ghostwritten autobiographies or attended their presentations to fawning MBA students.
Now take a look at the cemetery. It is quite difficult to do so because people who fail do not seem to write memoirs, and, if they did, those business publishers I know would not even consider giving them the courtesy of a returned phone call (as to returned e-mail, fuhgedit). Readers would not pay $26.95 for a story of failure, even if you convinced them that it had more useful tricks than a story of success.[25] The entire notion of biography is grounded in the arbitrary ascription of a causal relation between specified traits and subsequent events. Now consider the cemetery. The graveyard of failed persons will be full of people who shared the following traits: courage, risk taking, optimism, et cetera. Just like the population of millionaires. There may be some differences in skills, but what truly separates the two is for the most part a single factor: luck. Plain luck.
You do not need a lot of empiricism to figure this out: a simple thought experiment suffices. The fund- management industry claims that some people are extremely skilled, since year after year they have outperformed the market. They will identify these “geniuses” and convince you of their abilities. My approach has been to manufacture cohorts of purely random investors and, by simple computer simulation, show how it would be impossible to not have these geniuses produced
Recall the distinction between Mediocristan and Extremistan in Chapter 3. I said that taking a “scalable” profession is not a good idea, simply because there are far too few winners in these professions. Well, these professions produce a large cemetery: the pool of starving actors is larger than the one of starving accountants, even if you assume that, on average, they earn the same income.
A HEALTH CLUB FOR RATS
The second, and more vicious, variety of the problem of silent evidence is as follows. When I was in my early twenties and still read the newspaper, and thought that steadily reading the newspapers was something useful to me, I came across an article discussing the mounting threat of the Russian Mafia in the United States and its displacement of the traditional Louie and Tony in some neighborhoods of Brooklyn. The article explained their toughness and brutality as a result of their being hardened by their Gulag experiences. The Gulag was a network of labor camps in Siberia where criminals and dissidents were routinely deported. Sending people to Siberia was one of the purification methods initially used by the czarist regimes and later continued and perfected by the Soviets. Many deportees did not survive these labor camps.
An observer endowed with analytical abilities, who probably got excellent grades in college, would be led to believe that treatment in my laboratory is an excellent health-club replacement, and one that could be generalized to all mammals (think of the potential commercial success). His logic would run as follows: Hey, these rats are stronger than the rest of the rat population. What do they seem to have in common? They all came from that Black Swan guy Taleb’s workshop. Not many people will have the temptation to go look at the dead rats.
Next we pull the following trick on
There is a vicious attribute to the bias: it can hide best when its impact is largest. Owing to the invisibility of the dead rats, the more lethal the risks, the less visible they will be, since the severely victimized are likely to be eliminated from the evidence. The more injurious the treatment, the larger the difference between the surviving rats and the rest, and the more fooled you will be about the
We can keep going with this argument; it has such universality that once we get the bug it is hard to look at reality with the same eyes again. Clearly it robs our observations of their realistic power. I will enumerate a few