Game of Chance, Monday
When students entered the Danger Shop, they would find... a large forest, spread out next to an impressive mountain range to the east and a large river to the west.
"I hate to break it to all of you, but we're not going to be playing Go Fish all semester."
Sorry not sorry.
"This class is about gambling and probability in all its many and usually incredibly dangerous forms," Atton continued. "Like, say, in a survival situation. When you're stuck by yourself traveling through dangerous territory, you have to take constant risks, deciding in the moment what risk is worth what reward. Today, we're going to give your instincts a workout. Both so I can tell how far along you are, and because it's good to stretch your brain every now and again."
And your legs. Definitely your legs.
"I want each of you to take three of these tokens," he said, holding up a green circle made of cardboard. "Each one of these represents a ration. Food. Stuff you need to not die. You keep all three of these, you'll be comfortable. You lose all of them, you're dead. But you can't sit on your rations forever, because they're finite. Enter your escape route."
He gestured towards the imposing landscape behind them.
"Each one of these roads is set up with a probability matrix behind it," he said. "You can choose to take the river; outside of some rapids, you'll probably be safe there. So it will only cost you two of your rations, unless you're unlucky. See, you have a 65% chance to catch a fish, which would let you keep one of your ration tokens. If you don't, though? You're out of luck. Dead."
He put down one of the ration tokens. "You could, of course, take the forest instead," he said. "Plenty of food there. Berries and so on. So you could make it through with all of your tokens. But it's also full of monkeys. And it's a big forest. So there's three cases where there's a 33% probability a monkey will come and steal one of your rations."
He put down another token. "Finally, you've got the mountains," he said. "Dangerous territory. Thankfully, you're not the only one it's dangerous for. There's a dead goat up top, ready to be gutted and turned into more rations. You could walk out with each one of these tokens still in your pocket." He put down the last one. "But your actual chances of making it up there without dying - or in our case, losing all of your tokens - is 35%. So... not so good."
He shrugged. "The Danger Shop's programmed with these numbers," he said. "Safeties are on, you're not in actual danger, yadda yadda, there's one slice of pizza for every token you have left at the end. Go."
"I hate to break it to all of you, but we're not going to be playing Go Fish all semester."
Sorry not sorry.
"This class is about gambling and probability in all its many and usually incredibly dangerous forms," Atton continued. "Like, say, in a survival situation. When you're stuck by yourself traveling through dangerous territory, you have to take constant risks, deciding in the moment what risk is worth what reward. Today, we're going to give your instincts a workout. Both so I can tell how far along you are, and because it's good to stretch your brain every now and again."
And your legs. Definitely your legs.
"I want each of you to take three of these tokens," he said, holding up a green circle made of cardboard. "Each one of these represents a ration. Food. Stuff you need to not die. You keep all three of these, you'll be comfortable. You lose all of them, you're dead. But you can't sit on your rations forever, because they're finite. Enter your escape route."
He gestured towards the imposing landscape behind them.
"Each one of these roads is set up with a probability matrix behind it," he said. "You can choose to take the river; outside of some rapids, you'll probably be safe there. So it will only cost you two of your rations, unless you're unlucky. See, you have a 65% chance to catch a fish, which would let you keep one of your ration tokens. If you don't, though? You're out of luck. Dead."
He put down one of the ration tokens. "You could, of course, take the forest instead," he said. "Plenty of food there. Berries and so on. So you could make it through with all of your tokens. But it's also full of monkeys. And it's a big forest. So there's three cases where there's a 33% probability a monkey will come and steal one of your rations."
He put down another token. "Finally, you've got the mountains," he said. "Dangerous territory. Thankfully, you're not the only one it's dangerous for. There's a dead goat up top, ready to be gutted and turned into more rations. You could walk out with each one of these tokens still in your pocket." He put down the last one. "But your actual chances of making it up there without dying - or in our case, losing all of your tokens - is 35%. So... not so good."
He shrugged. "The Danger Shop's programmed with these numbers," he said. "Safeties are on, you're not in actual danger, yadda yadda, there's one slice of pizza for every token you have left at the end. Go."