The Two-Envelope Paradox (Column 288)
With God's help
Dedicated with love to my mathematician sons, Nachman and Yossi.
In the previous column there was a surprising surge of public interest, even though there too I dealt with a theoretical question (interesting why). That is exactly what encourages me to keep dealing with such questions, and I am quite certain that the storms in the comments will continue here as well.
At the beginning of Column 286 I mentioned that my son Nachman sent me an article by Gill (R. D. Gill) from Leiden University, which deals with the well-known envelope paradox, and in the language of Ishmael it is called "Anna Karenina and the two envelope problem". In that column I gave an overview of the Anna Karenina principle on the logical and probabilistic plane, and now I arrive at the envelope paradox. I will return at the end of the column to the connection between Anna Karenina and the paradox (if there is one at all).
Let me say in advance that this column is somewhat long and not easy. It contains several digressions for the sake of methodological insights that seemed important to me, especially for amateurs (professionals probably do not need most of them). And I should further preface this with a full disclosure: I am far from being an expert in probability. What you have before you are my reflections on the matter (with comments from both my sons). I feel there is value in them, but perhaps I am mistaken. So here, more than ever, I will be happy for any comment from anyone who takes the trouble to read. I think one can see here just how confusing the field of probability and statistics is, and that in itself is a very important lesson.
The envelope paradox
This paradox was first presented by Barry Nalebuff, a game-theory expert from Yale University, and since then it has been discussed in many articles in various fields (probability theory, mathematical economics, logic, and philosophy). A clear and pleasant formulation of the paradox appears in an article by Marius Cohen on YNET[1]. You are presented with two sealed, identical envelopes, each containing some amount of money. You are told that one contains twice the amount in the other. You of course do not know which of the two identical envelopes contains the larger amount. You are asked to choose an envelope, and since they are identical and you have no information, clearly each envelope is equally eligible to be your choice. You choose one of them at random. But now, once you are holding the envelope you chose, you are offered the chance to switch and take the other one. Would you prefer to do so, or are you better off staying with the one in your hand?
Calculation A: On the face of it, it seems there is no advantage to one over the other, and therefore no reason to switch. One can even calculate the expected payoff given that we are holding envelope A: the probability that it contains an amount X is 1/2, and the probability that it contains 2X is also 1/2. Therefore the expected payoff from choosing envelope A is: 0.5X+0.5*2X=1.5X. But this is also the expected payoff if we choose the other envelope (B), so a priori it is clear that there is no reason to switch between them.
Calculation B: But one can also perform a different calculation here. Suppose I am holding an envelope whose contents are X. What is in the other envelope? Either 0.5X or 2X. I have two possibilities to compare: staying with the current envelope or switching. If I stay with it, I receive the amount X that is inside it. If I switch, I have a 1/2 chance of gaining X and a 1/2 chance of losing 0.5X. The expected value in such a case is:
0.5X-0.5*0.5X=0.25X, that is, the switch should yield me 0.25X. It is worthwhile to switch.
In passing, I note that one can think about this paradox also in a case where the player opens the envelope in his hand and sees what amount is inside, and only afterward decides whether to switch. At first glance, both of these calculations remain valid in that case as well. Even when he opens the first envelope and finds an amount X, the player still does not know whether this amount is the smaller or the larger of the two, and so apparently that information is irrelevant. Think through the calculation after opening the envelope, and you will see that it can be repeated in exactly the same way. The second envelope contains either 2X or 0.5X with equal probabilities, and therefore the higher expected payoff will still result if he switches envelopes. That is, opening the envelope does not really change anything here, and the paradox remains intact.
Two problems with the second calculation
What is wrong with the second calculation? It can be seen from two different angles: a. How does this result fit with the previous calculation, which said there is no difference which envelope we choose? It now turns out that specifically the other one would have been preferable. This does not necessarily point to a problem specifically in the second calculation; it only shows that there is a problem in one of the calculations. b. This is already a problem specifically with the second calculation. After the switch, we can do exactly the same calculation again, and once again get the result that it is better to switch the envelope and return to the first one. That is, it is not really better to choose the second. So why was it originally right to switch, if after the switch it turns out that this was an unnecessary move? Put differently: suppose there is another player holding the second envelope, and he too can decide whether to switch. According to this calculation, he too should want to switch and get the first one. But it cannot be that, on the basis of the same information and by the same line of reasoning, two opposite decisions would be reached, one preferring the first envelope and the other the second.
The Monty Hall problem
This picture calls to mind the Monty Hall problem. The player is presented with three doors. Behind one of them is a valuable prize (an expensive car), and behind each of the other two stands a goat. The player is supposed to choose a door and open it. If the car is behind it, he wins the car. If not (he finds a goat there), he goes home grieving and crestfallen. Suppose that person chose a door but did not open it. The host, who himself knows where the car is, opens a different door for him, one behind which there is a goat (the point is that he intentionally opens a door with a goat behind it, and not that he randomly opened one of the doors and that is what happened to come out)[2]. He now asks the player whether he would prefer to open the door he originally chose or switch and open the third door.
Again, apparently there is symmetry between the doors, but a simple calculation shows that this is a mistake. The probability that the car is behind the first door chosen is, of course, 1/3. After the host opens the second door, that obviously does not change the a priori probability, since whether the chosen door is the correct one or not, the host always has another goat door to open, and he opens it.[3] Therefore the opening of the second door does not change in the least the probability that the door initially chosen is correct. If so, even after the host opens a door, the probability that the car stands behind the first door chosen remains 1/3. But now that the second door has been opened, the player can move to the third door and choose it. His chance of winning in that case is 2/3, since it is already known that the second door is not the prize door. Therefore the prize is either behind the first chosen door or behind the third. Hence it is better for him to switch and choose the third door, since then his probability of winning is 2/3, and that is higher than 1/3 (which is the chance of winning if he stays with the first door).
It is important to understand that Monty Hall is not a "paradox" but a "problem". This is indeed the correct answer (he should switch doors). It is strange and interesting, because intuitively this does not look like the correct answer. But that is just a cognitive failure. There is no paradox here, only a counterintuitive result of a probabilistic calculation. There are quite a few such cases.[4]
The difference between the two situations
What is the difference between this problem and the envelope problem? Here there is no possibility of returning and offering him another switch, so here one cannot formulate the paradox. Moreover, unlike the envelope problem, here between the first stage (when he chose the first door) and the third stage (when he has to decide whether to switch his choice), new information has been added for him (that the second door is wrong). His second choice is made on the basis of fuller information than the first, and therefore it is not surprising that his chance of winning now increases. Therefore it is also no wonder that in such a case the symmetry between the doors is broken. By contrast, in the case of the envelopes there is no addition of information between the stage of choosing the first envelope and the moment when he has to decide whether to switch (even if he opens the envelope, it does not seem that any relevant information has been added. Still, see below on this). Therefore there cannot be any difference there between the envelopes.
The conclusion is that, apparently, the envelope paradox in both its versions (whether the player opens the first envelope or not) is indeed a paradox, whereas the Monty Hall problem is merely a counterintuitive result.
Is the envelope paradox really a paradox?
Above I concluded that the envelope problem is a paradox, unlike the Monty Hall problem. The reason is that there are two methods of calculation there that both seem correct, yet they yield different results (one teaches that there is symmetry between the envelopes and the other teaches that it is better to switch).
However, the following claim may be raised here. After all, it is obvious that one of the methods is incorrect. It cannot be that a mathematical problem has two different solutions and both are correct. Therefore, in truth, this is a problem and not a paradox. We may not necessarily know which of the two solutions is correct, but clearly it is only one of them.
Moreover, in the case of the envelopes we even know which of the two solutions is the correct one. Clearly the two envelopes are on equal footing and there is no reason to switch envelopes. We saw above that the second calculation is problematic and cannot be correct. Therefore it is clear that Calculation B, which gives an advantage to switching, is the erroneous calculation, and Calculation A is the correct one. But it is not clear at exactly which point the problem lies in Calculation B. If so, we have proof of which of the two is the erroneous calculation, but for the time being we still cannot point to the flaw in the erroneous calculation (B).
Is such a state of affairs paradoxical? In light of what I explained, it would seem at first glance that the envelopes too are only a problem and not a paradox.
What counts as solving a paradox: the example of Achilles and the tortoise
But that is not entirely precise. To understand this, let us take the paradox of Achilles and the tortoise as a parable. Suppose Achilles runs at a speed of 10 meters per second, and the tortoise crawls at a speed of 5 meters per second (this is a 4×4 tortoise). Because of the difference in athleticism, Achilles, the most generous of men, allows the tortoise to begin the race 10 meters ahead of him. Once the starting shot is heard, Achilles begins to close the distance, and after one second he is at the point from which the tortoise began the race. But in the meantime the tortoise has advanced another 5 meters. Fine, Achilles of course keeps running, and within half a second he is at the previous point where the tortoise had been, but by then it has moved another 2.5 meters away. And so after another quarter of a second Achilles reaches that point, but the tortoise has already advanced another 1.25 meters, and so on. It follows that Achilles never catches the tortoise.
Here too, someone might say that this is not a paradox, since it is obvious that Achilles does catch the tortoise. There is a simple calculation that shows this. But that is not a solution to the paradox. So long as you have not shown what is flawed in the calculation I presented here, you have not solved the paradox. The fact that you know what the correct answer is does not constitute a solution to the paradox. On the contrary, that is the reason this is a paradox: you know that the second calculation is incorrect, but you do not succeed in pointing out exactly where the mistake lies.[5] The solution must present the error in the second mode of calculation, that is, show where the mistake is. The same applies to the envelopes. Even if we know what the truth is, that is not a solution to the paradox. In order to solve it, we have to point to the error in the alternative calculation. So long as we have not done that, one might perhaps say that we know the truth, but not that we have solved the paradox.
By the way, with respect to Achilles and the tortoise, the error in the incorrect calculation I presented is simple. The calculation I presented is completely accurate, but the conclusion (that Achilles does not catch the tortoise) does not follow from it. If we do the correct calculation, we discover that Achilles catches the tortoise after 2 seconds, when he has covered 20 meters.[6] Now we can easily see that the description I gave above is nothing but a decomposition of the first 2 seconds of the race (until Achilles reaches the tortoise) into an infinite collection of ever smaller segments: one second plus half a second plus a quarter second plus an eighth of a second, and so on. If you sum that whole series, you get a total of 2 seconds.[7] We have discovered that this entire description refers only to the first two seconds of the race. And indeed, during the first two seconds of the race Achilles does not catch the tortoise. He catches it exactly when two seconds have passed, and then he passes it and races on. Note that now we not only know which of the two is the erroneous calculation, but also understand where the mistake lies in the alternative calculation. Now one can say that the paradox is solved.
Is there a similar solution to the envelope paradox?
First proposal for a solution
In his article, Marius Cohen describes a solution that at first glance looks very enchanting. In these two envelopes there are two given amounts: X and 2X. Now I choose one envelope, and the two possibilities are that it contains X and then the second contains 2X, or that it contains 2X and the second contains X. If you look at it this way, you discover that whether one switches or not, the expected payoff obtained in both situations is equal. Either I hold the envelope with 2X, in which case switching yields a loss of X, or I hold X, in which case switching yields a gain of X. That is, the two possibilities are either gaining X or losing X with probability 1/2, and therefore the expected gain from switching is zero.
Is this a solution?
Is this not a simple solution to the problem? At first glance, this solution has a certain charm and seems neat and natural, but something here is nevertheless troubling. On the face of it, Cohen is simply presenting a solution to a different problem from the one we defined above. He is not solving the paradox, but presenting a situation in which the problem simply does not arise. What exactly is different between the two situations? Calculation B above assumes a given amount in my envelope, and two possibilities regarding both envelopes. If so, the first problem assumes knowledge (though not explicit) of the amount in my envelope (X), and lack of knowledge regarding the amount in the other envelope (either 2X or 0.5X). The second problem assumes partial knowledge (not explicit) regarding both envelopes (one contains X and the other 2X, but it is not known which amount is in which envelope), and therefore there are two possibilities there regarding the amounts in the two envelopes.
But on a second look one sees that these are not two different situations but two ways of analyzing the same state of affairs. After all, the knowledge in the player’s possession is identical in both situations. Note that the amount in my envelope is not really known (it was designated as X). Therefore the only question is how it is more correct to analyze the situation, but Calculation B above and Cohen’s calculation are two modes of calculation dealing with the very same situation. If so, what Cohen showed is that there is yet another form of calculation, let us call it from here on Calculation C, which yields the correct result (remember that above we saw that A is the correct answer), but note that he does not point to the flaw in Calculation B. He does not explain why specifically that calculation is the correct one and Calculation B is not. I remind you that above I already noted that a solution to a paradox requires also identifying the flaw in the incorrect solution. In short, we are left with the question why specifically one should choose mode of analysis C, or what is wrong with Calculation B. That he did not explain to us, and therefore it is hard to see this as a solution. That was also my feeling on reading the solutions Gill proposed in his article.
Calculation D
To sharpen the difficulty, I will now present yet another possible mode of calculation, Calculation D in our count. I am holding one envelope and opposite me there is another identical one. Suppose the second envelope contains an amount X. Now there are two possibilities: either my envelope contains 2X or it contains 0.5X. The expected gain from switching is now negative, of course, and the conclusion is that I should not switch (on the contrary, another player holding that envelope would do well to switch with me). But again, this is not a different situation but a different calculation of the very same situation. This is already the fourth form of calculation, and it leads to a different conclusion: Calculation A leads to indifference with respect to switching. Calculation B leads to a preference for switching. Calculation C (Cohen’s) also leads to indifference (like Calculation A). And Calculation D leads to a preference for not switching (and not merely to indifference). Note that Calculation D leads us to a result we did not yet have. This shows that presenting an additional calculation does not solve the paradox, but perhaps intensifies it.
To sharpen this further, I should note that Cohen concludes his article by wondering whether, in the case where one opens the first envelope, the calculation would be different. There is a lively discussion of this in the literature dealing with this paradox, and I already mentioned it above. Note that Calculation D is no longer relevant to that situation. If I opened my envelope, there are no longer two possibilities regarding the amount in it. I now have before me only the first three calculations. Will the result in the case where the player opens the envelope be different with respect to them? Calculation A will of course give the same result. And so will Calculations B and C. The difference between the situations arises only in Calculation D. From the standpoint of the first three calculations, we would say that the problem in which a player opens the envelope is completely identical to the problem in which he does not open it, as I assumed above. But Calculation D (if it is correct, and as stated it probably is not correct) shows that there may be a difference between these cases.
Before we proceed, I will make a general remark about paradoxes.
Are there paradoxes in the world?
Many raise the question whether there are any genuine paradoxes in the world at all. In the final analysis, the truth is always one, and if we have two methods that seem correct to us and yet yield different results, necessarily only one of them is correct, except that we do not know which one. But as we saw above, even if there is one correct answer, and it now turns out that this is always the case, a paradox is a calculation known to be erroneous, but where we cannot identify its point of failure. That is precisely what a paradox is. A paradox is not a situation in which there are two different answers and both are correct (a pluralistic situation). Only one of them is ever correct, and the paradox is the inability to point to which one is the correct one, or what the problem is in the erroneous calculation.
Of course, this is not the case with respect to two ethical arguments that lead to different conclusions. Here a pluralistic situation may exist, and therefore this is not necessarily a paradox but perhaps simply different facets of ethics. One person may raise an argument in favor of a targeted killing of a terrorist that harms an innocent person together with him, on the grounds that the lives of our citizens take precedence, and at the same time also raise the contrary argument that one may not save oneself at the cost of another’s life (except in a case where he is a pursuer). Is there a contradiction between the arguments? Certainly not. They present two sides of the problem, and both are true together. In the bottom line, one must make a decision, that is, prefer one over the other, but even at the stage of decision it does not necessarily become clear that one of them was mistaken. In the ethical realm, two "calculations" that yield different results point to the many facets of the problem, and therefore this is a conflict (how to act in practice) and not a paradox (a contradiction). But with respect to facts, or to a mathematical result, the situation is different. Here there is no possibility of speaking about two faces or two different aspects of the matter. If there are two different solutions, we are dealing with a contradiction, and it is clear that in practice only one of them is correct.
In this sense, a paradox is a kind of riddle. We have two modes of calculation that yield different results (or two modes of thought that yield different conclusions). It is clear to us that one of them is erroneous, and in many cases it is even clear to us which one. The riddle is to put a finger on the erroneous calculation, and especially on the flaw in the other (erroneous) way. Indeed, it seems that there are no "real" paradoxes in existence (a pluralistic state of affairs), but there are paradoxes that constitute a challenging riddle,[8] and that is their main function.
An ill-defined problem
Yet there is nevertheless one possibility in which a pluralistic state of affairs (more than one correct solution) is created even with respect to facts or with respect to a mathematical problem, namely when the problem or the situation is not fully defined. For example, think of the following problem: given a first-degree equation with two unknowns: X+Y=5. Someone may propose the solution (1,4) or the solution (2,3), and of course there are many more solutions. Which of them is correct? Both are correct. How can it be that a mathematical problem has two different solutions and both are correct? Is it not true here that there are no real paradoxes? Note that these solutions contradict one another, and yet such a situation is familiar and known to all of us and does not seem to create any special problem. The reason is that this problem is not fully defined (it is not defined in a way that gives it a unique solution). If we were to add further conditions and define the problem completely, it would have a unique solution. For example, one could add another independent equation that binds those same two unknowns.[9]
To amuse you in the days of corona, think about the following problem. A person stands at some point on the surface of the earth. He walks one kilometer north, then one kilometer east, and finally returns one kilometer south, arriving back exactly at the starting point. What is that point? Before you read on, try for a moment to think about it yourself.
Well, you surely thought of the obvious solution, namely the South Pole. The person goes from there one kilometer north (in whatever direction he likes), then walks one kilometer east (all this takes place on a circle all of whose points are one kilometer from the South Pole), and then from whatever point he reaches, if he walks one kilometer south he will return exactly to the South Pole. Simple, right? But in truth there is another infinite collection of solutions, less intuitive ones. Let us pause for a moment, and try to think about it again.
All right, here they are. Think about circles of latitude a little below the North Pole. As one goes down southward from the pole, the circumference of the circle of latitude containing the point one reaches obviously grows. Now we can define the additional solutions. Let us go down from the North Pole southward (in whatever direction we choose) and stop at a point whose circle of latitude has a circumference of exactly one kilometer. Now stand on one of the points on that circle, and go one more kilometer south. The set of points obtained in this way is arranged on a circle that lies one kilometer below the previous circle, and it is easy to see that all of them satisfy the requirements of the riddle.
So this mathematical problem too, which clearly deals with reality, is not well defined (it has infinitely many solutions). If I am given the problem, I cannot give a single unequivocal answer. In order to define the problem fully, that is, so that it will have only one solution, one must add constraints to it, for example: that the point lies on a certain line of longitude, or that it lies south of the equator, and so on. So we see that even a problem dealing with reality (and one that is also mathematical) can have more than one solution if it is not fully defined.
This description may perhaps give us a direction for a possible solution to the envelope paradox. If we have seen that there are several methods of calculation that yield different results, and all of them seem correct (that is, we have found no flaw in any of them), then either we are mistaken, and if not, then the only possibility is that here too the problem is not well defined. The conclusion is that we should examine where there is a degree of freedom in our problem, and if we discover such a degree of freedom, perhaps we will be able to define it fully, and then we will discover that only one of these methods of calculation is correct. Alternatively, each of the methods of calculation assumes something different, that is, treats a different problem.
Where in the envelope problem could there be a gap requiring definition? Apparently everything is known and everything is well defined. The obvious candidate is the probability of getting a smaller or a larger amount in the second envelope. For some reason we assumed that these two probabilities are equal and each is 1/2. Does this 1/2 really necessarily follow from the definition of the problem? Here there may lie a degree of freedom that will help us solve the paradox. Why do we assume that the probability of the two amounts in the second envelope is equal? Presumably because in the absence of other knowledge that is the natural assumption. If so, there you have a possible gap (absence of information) on which the problem may hang. This is Gadi Alexandrovich’s claim in his post on the envelope problem (and below we shall see that it is not necessary for solving our problem).
Second proposal for a solution: the distribution
When we assign probabilities to different states, this is the result of some given distribution. The distribution describes the probability attached to each event in our event-space. From the distribution one can calculate the probability of any simple or complex event. For example, when tossing a die there are six possible outcomes. If the die is fair, then the distribution is uniform, meaning that there is the same probability of obtaining each of the six results. If, for example, we ask what the probability is of obtaining an even result, the answer is 1/2 (3 times 1/6). By contrast, if the die is not fair, for instance if the probability of obtaining 1 or 3 is 0.1, and the probability of obtaining each of the other possibilities is 0.2 (all of this sums to 1, of course), then this is a non-uniform distribution. In such a case, the probability of obtaining an even result is 0.6. Note the conclusion that follows from this. Suppose one asks you, with respect to a given die, what the probability is of obtaining an even result. The answer is not 0.5 but rather that the problem is not defined. To complete its definition, you need to be given the distribution (is the die fair, and if not, how does it behave?). Only given the distribution can one calculate unambiguously the probabilities of every event. Otherwise, there will be several calculations, all of which may be correct, meaning that the problem is not well defined.
This can be presented differently. The expected value of the game or lottery is defined as the average outcome we would reach if we repeated them again and again (infinitely many times, or the limit obtained as the number of games is increased as much as we like). The amount I have in hand per game (that is, the total amount toward which the results of all the games tend, divided by the number of games, as the number of games tends to infinity) is the expected value. Now we must ask ourselves what it means to repeat the coin toss or the envelope game again and again. In the context of the die, one must know the nature of the die. In the context of the envelopes, we must know how the contents of the envelopes before the player are determined each time. Clearly, in order to define this, we must fix the lottery according to which the sums inside the envelopes are determined and how the pair of envelopes is chosen for the game. For example, we determine that the amount X appears in this lottery with probability P, for each possible amount X, arrange two pairs of envelopes (one with the possibility that X is the larger amount and the other that it is the smaller), and then choose a pair of envelopes at random and play with it. This is exactly the definition of the distribution. The conclusion is that without the distribution one cannot speak of probabilities and therefore also not of expected value.[10]
If so, Gadi Alexandrovich argues, it is now natural to ask how the probabilities were calculated for obtaining this or that amount in the two envelopes. What is given to us is only the ratio between the amounts, but nothing whatever about the amounts themselves (the value of X). So there you have a gap in the problem that must be defined in order for the problem to be well defined: the probability distribution of obtaining amounts in the different envelopes. For example, if the distribution for receiving an amount declines as the amount rises, then it is not correct to assume equal probability for a switch that gives a higher amount and a switch that gives a lower amount. So here one of our assumptions in the paradox has already been broken (= equal probability for the two possibilities). Given a certain distribution of the probabilities of obtaining amount X in the envelopes, the problem is then well defined, and that gives the player a tool with which to calculate the expected payoff and whether it is worthwhile for him to switch envelopes. If that player does not know the distribution, then he lacks information and cannot answer the question. The problem is not fully defined. True, there is some distribution and he merely does not know what it is, but then again he is mistaken because he does not have all the information in hand. This is not a paradox. At most, it can only mean that such a player has no unambiguous winning strategy in the condition of ignorance in which he finds himself.
If you think about the case in which the player opens the envelope and sees the amount inside it, you can understand the problem more easily. If he found ₪200 there, he is supposed to use the distribution to calculate the probability of finding ₪100 or ₪400 in the second envelope, and there is no a priori reason to assume that the probabilities are equal. On the contrary, if the probability of a higher amount in an envelope decreases (as is likely in most practical cases), then the probability that the second envelope contains 400 is lower than the probability that it contains 100. The distribution will tell me what the ratio is between the probabilities, and that will determine the winning strategy. For example, if the probability of getting 400 is 10% and the probability of getting 100 is 90%,[11] then the expected gain from switching is:
60 – = 100*0.9 – 300*0.1
that is, it is not worthwhile for him to switch. But if the probability of getting 400 is 40%, then even though that probability is lower than the probability of losing 100, it would still be worthwhile for him to switch. The expected gain from switching in such a case is:
60 = 100*0.6 – 300*0.4.
You see that the distribution determines the result.
Gadi Alexandrovich argues that the solution to the problem lies in the fact that we did not define the distribution, and therefore the problem is not defined. But he adds and argues that even if one takes the distribution into account, the problem is still not solved. One can define a problem in which the distribution for every amount is uniform (the probability of every amount is the same). The result is that in such a state it really is worthwhile to switch envelopes, except that then it is worthwhile to switch again. Here we are led into a paradox even though the problem is well defined (there is a given distribution). But that is a mistake. It is important to understand that a uniform distribution over all amounts (that is, an infinite number of amounts) is not defined, since the probability of each amount is 0. Therefore such a problem is still not defined. If so, apparently we have solved the paradox. The problem is not well defined, and the assumption that the probability of each of the two outcomes is identical is an unfounded assumption.
But that too is not correct, since one can think of a state in which the probability really is equal (for example when there is not an infinite number of possibilities). Moreover, the four calculations above yielded different results even though they all assumed equal probability. That is, this thesis will not explain the contradiction between the calculations we made.
A variation on the problem
Alexandrovich there brings a different version of the problem in the name of Prof. Noga Alon. Its essence is a distribution that can indeed be defined and yet leaves the problem intact. This will sharpen for you what I wrote here, that the problem is not really solved even if one brings in the matter of the distribution.
Suppose the game is defined so that the amounts put into the envelopes can only be powers of 10: ₪10, ₪100, ₪1000, and so on. Now let us define the distribution in the following way: the probability of getting a pair of envelopes with amounts 10 and 100 is 1/2. The probability of getting 100 and 1000 is 1/4, and so on. More generally, the probability of getting the pair (10n , 10n+1) is 1/2n. This is a legitimate distribution (since the sum of the probabilities of all the possibilities is 1). Now everything in the problem is already defined, and therefore the calculation should be unambiguous and its result should represent the correct conclusion.
Let us discuss the problem in which the player opens the first envelope and then must decide whether to switch. The player found in it an amount of 10n ₪. In the second envelope there may be either 10n-1 or 10n+1. The probabilities of these two outcomes are: 1/2n-1 for the first outcome, and 1/2n for the second. In such a situation, the probability that the second envelope contains an amount ten times smaller than the amount in our envelope is double the probability that the second envelope contains a larger amount. So with probability 1/3 we will gain from switching envelopes, and with probability 2/3 we will lose.[12] The expected gain from switching in such a case can be calculated simply, and it of course comes out positive (because the larger amount is 10 times as large, while the probability of reaching it is only half the probability of reaching the smaller amount). In this case the calculation gives: 24*10n-1, that is, if you found ₪100 in your envelope, the expected gain from switching is ₪240; the advantage of switching is significant, and this of course rises with the amount.
But now one may ask what is wrong with this result. Perhaps this really is the result, counterintuitive though it may be. Is this a paradox or merely a counterintuitive result? Here we must return to Calculations A, B, and C, and see that they can all be applied here (not D, because it is not relevant to the case where one opens the first envelope). In other words, there is symmetry between the envelopes (there is no reason to assume that I happened to open specifically the smaller of the two). Alternatively, my friend who is also holding his own envelope will reach the same conclusion, and he too will want to switch. It is not sensible that the rational conclusion is that each of us should switch envelopes. Therefore this is a paradox (and not merely a counterintuitive result).
Alexandrovich there proposes that one should not identify the notion "it is worthwhile to switch" with the difference between the expected payoffs of the two possibilities. He also shows that the expected-value calculations for these states (both for switching and for not switching) yield infinite results. But, as he himself argues, in the final analysis something here does not seem sensible, and the matter remains unresolved.
At the end of the previous section I already explained why this proposal cannot provide a solution to the paradox. Here I will add yet another problem with it. In order to arrive at his infinities, Alexandrovich performs expected-value calculations that include the probability of receiving an envelope with a certain amount, then a calculation of the expected gain from switching or not switching in that case, and then an averaging over all amounts. But it seems to me that the question under discussion here is different (conditional probability): given that we received some amount (let us assume for purposes of the discussion that we opened the envelope), is the expected gain from switching positive or negative? That calculation was already done above, and there is nothing infinite about it (neither in the two calculations nor in the difference between them).
In other words, the experiment he proposes to repeat infinitely many times is to choose a random pair of envelopes from a collection of pairs arranged with the frequency described by the distribution above, check whether switching is worthwhile, and then average over all the pairs. By contrast, I propose choosing a particular pair of envelopes and opening one of them. If I happened to get an amount of ₪100, I check the value of switching. If I did not get 100, I close the envelope again, return the two envelopes to the pile, shuffle, and choose another pair. I check only the cases in which we received ₪100 and average over all the gains from all those cases. To the best of my understanding, in the example he proposed the result will be a gain of ₪240 per case if one switches. Therefore his proposal does not really solve the problem.
Third proposal for a solution: back to the first proposal
So taking the distribution into account has not saved us. I find myself returning again to the proposal described in Marius Cohen’s article. If we succeed in explaining why Calculation C is correct and not B, that will constitute a solution to the paradox, even in our formulation.
It seems to me that the analysis I made at the end of the previous paragraph can explain this very well. Calculations B and D assume a certain amount in one envelope (either mine or the other one), and two possibilities for the amount in the second envelope. To repeat this experiment infinitely many times means to perform an experiment in which the amount in my envelope is given. But that is not the case with which we are dealing. On the contrary, as you can see at the end of the previous section, we draw a pair of envelopes, and out of that pair we choose one, and then wonder whether it is worthwhile to switch. If so, Marius Cohen’s calculation is indeed the one that describes the situation as it really is. His calculation assumes that we have a pair of envelopes containing two given amounts. What is open at the moment is the question which of the two I am holding (the larger or the smaller). Therefore Calculation C is precisely the relevant calculation for the case at hand. Calculations B and D refer to a situation in which I choose one envelope with a given amount, and then draw a second envelope containing an amount half as large or twice as large. But in such a case it really is worthwhile to switch, and there is no paradox here.
Think about the following game.[13] I have an envelope in my hand, I opened it, and it contains ₪100. I am now offered a lottery in which with probability 1/2 I will receive ₪200 and with probability 1/2 I will receive ₪50. Participation in the lottery requires me to pay ₪100 (the amount in my envelope). Is it worthwhile to pay that amount? The answer is of course yes. Here there is no dilemma and no paradox. In such a case the expected value is clear, and it is certainly worthwhile to participate in the lottery (that is, to switch envelopes). This is the situation in the case where the amount in my envelope is fixed and known. Here Calculation B is indeed the correct calculation. Calculations A and C deal with a different case, and therefore their result is different. Calculation D deals with a third case (the reverse one), in which the amount in the other envelope is kept fixed and the envelope in my hand is randomized.
Do we really need the distribution?
If I am right, then the root of the solution does not lie at all in the question of the distribution. The description of the game contains within it three different games, and we did not enter into the differences between them, but to each of them a different calculation is appropriate. For the game as we understood it, Calculation C is appropriate, and therefore in it one should not switch (the expected gain from switching is 0). In other games, like the one I described here, Calculation B is appropriate, in which case it is indeed worthwhile to switch (the expected gain from switching is positive), or Calculation D, in which case it is worthwhile not to switch (the expected gain from switching is negative).
So, in the bottom line, Alexandrovich is right that this really is an ill-defined problem. But what is missing is not exactly the distribution; rather, the description of the situation is incomplete. Of course, one can also see this as a lack in the distribution, since each of the situations has, of course, a different distribution of outcomes. Therefore I do not know whether my solution here is essentially different from Alexandrovich’s or not. I do think that at this point there is no need to remain unresolved, as happened in his case. And this, as we have seen, brings us back to Marius Cohen’s solution, except that now it is also clear why it is correct to choose Calculation C and not Calculation B. Therefore one can now see this as a solution to the paradox.
Fourth proposal for a solution: Gill
My son Nachman drew my attention to the fact that Gill, in section 1.3 of his aforementioned article, shows that the problem is not related to the distribution at all, and that Alexandrovich’s entire discussion (of the original problem, not Noga Alon’s) is fundamentally mistaken. The two-envelope problem that I described at the beginning speaks of two given envelopes whose amounts are completely known. They are not randomized in any way whatsoever. The only randomization in the process is the choice between the envelopes.
To see this, let us follow Gill’s formulation there. Think about two identical envelopes such that envelope A contains ₪100 and envelope B contains ₪200. I choose one of them at random (and I do not know whether this is envelope A or B), and now I have to decide whether to exchange it for the second envelope. Now we shall see that even in such a case, where there is no randomization or distribution of the amounts, one can formulate the paradox. To do so, let us denote the amount in the envelope we chose by S. If this is envelope A then S=100, and if it is B then S=200. Each of these events has probability 1/2 because the choice between the envelopes is random. Precisely for that reason there is no significance here to the distribution (the 1/2 probability for each possibility follows from the choice of the envelope and not from a lottery of the amounts in the envelopes).
The amount in the second envelope will be denoted by T. We know that there are two possibilities: T=0.5S (if S=200), or T=2S (if S=100). Here too the probability of each of these possibilities is 1/2 (because the choice of the first envelope is random).
Now, according to the formula for total expectation, we get:
E (T) = E (T | T = 2S) · P (A) + E (T | T = S/2) · P (B)
The amount T (that is, the amount in the envelope remaining before me) is calculated as the sum of two possibilities: the amount in that envelope if S=100 (that is, if I chose envelope A) plus the amount in that envelope if S=200 (that is, if I chose envelope B).
If we substitute the relevant quantities, we get:
E (T) = 2S · 1/2 + S/2 · 1/2 = S + S/4 = 5S/4
We have obtained that the amount in that envelope is larger by a quarter than the one in the envelope I chose. That is, it is worthwhile for me to switch.
But it is clear that even in this case such a result cannot be possible. There is symmetry between the envelopes, and therefore it cannot be that the other envelope yields a greater average gain than the one I chose. So there you have the paradox even without assuming any lottery over the amounts in the envelopes, and without any need to resort to distributions of the amounts.
Gill argues that the root of the problem is that we calculated the wrong quantity. What we calculated here is the expectation of T as such, whereas what we should have calculated is the conditional expectation E(T/S) . After all, we are dealing with the expectation of T given that it is known that the envelope in our hand now contains S, and that by definition is a conditional expectation. Gill in section 1.3 shows that the calculation of the conditional expectation gives:
E (T/S=a) = a
That is, there is no additional gain in switching. It is important to understand that the calculation here is nothing other than Calculation C, which was presented at the beginning of the column. The mistake was that we calculated an absolute expectation whereas we should have calculated a conditional expectation.
The calculation of E(T) that was done in the previous formula is nothing other than Calculation B, which is a calculation of the expected gain in the case presented by my son Yossi (one chooses an envelope and randomizes the amount in the second envelope). In such a case the expectation really is not conditional, because the randomization is independent, and therefore, as I explained, in such a case it really is worthwhile to switch. But the correct calculation for our case, in which one chooses an envelope and the amount in the second envelope is determined dependently on the envelope chosen, is the calculation of the conditional expectation, which is Calculation C, and as we saw its conclusion is that there is no additional gain in switching.
We see once again that the paradox can be presented even without resorting to distributions. There is no random lottery of the amounts in the envelopes here, and therefore Alexandrovich’s claim regarding this case (that a uniform distribution over an infinite number of amounts is undefined) is not relevant to the discussion. We also see here that in the end it can be shown that the paradox does not exist even without resorting to the distribution. In that sense, it seems to me that this solution resembles what I proposed in the previous section. The meaning of the solution is that, given the precise situation, one can present a consistent calculation even without resorting to the distribution, and even under the assumption that the probability of the two possibilities is indeed 1/2. By contrast, when dealing with the problem presented by Noga Alon, there one really does need to resort to the distribution, and therefore that is a different problem. It seems to me that our solution will work there.
What does all this have to do with Anna Karenina?
At the beginning of the column I mentioned the article I received from my son Nachman, which proposes solutions to the envelope paradox and connects them to the Anna Karenina principle (discussed in column 286). I tried to think about what the connection between these two really is.
Ultimately, as far as I understand, there is not much connection. Gill merely tried to show that there are many different proposals for solving the paradox, just as there are many different ways to be unhappy. That is, there are many incorrect solutions, but there is only one correct solution. This reminds me somewhat of Rabbi Medan’s charming remark that he knows 22 explanations for why we read the Book of Ruth on Shavuot, but only one explanation for why we read the Book of Esther on Purim. What he meant to say is that when there is a multiplicity of explanations, it is quite clear that there is something unsatisfactory in each of them. When the explanation is clear and correct, there is no need to go looking for more explanations.
But here, if I am right, the different solutions all revolve around the same point: the distribution and the incompleteness of the problem. One can approach this from different angles, and usually each proposal deals with a different case (and as we saw, it is correct with respect to that case), but at bottom there is something common to them all. As stated, there are no real paradoxes with respect to mathematics or facts. In reality there is always one correct answer. If we encounter different calculations that seem correct, then it appears that we are simply dealing with different real situations (the problem is not fully defined). We can now see that all the solutions I presented converge and complement one another. A family can be happy in a well-defined way, if it does so in the right way.
[1] The article is taken from Galileo.
[2] If he simply opened one of the other doors and it happened to turn out that there was a goat behind it, the analysis is different (in such a case the probability of winning is 1/2 in both options, whether he switches or not).
[3] Here enters the assumption I mentioned above, that the host’s opening is not random, but rather an intentional opening of a door with a goat behind it.
[4] It seems to me that Daniel Kahneman once wrote about the fascinating evolutionary question of how it is that our probabilistic thinking is so defective (this has been the source of most of his livelihood), despite the fact that these are very vital skills for our survival. Apparently he and Tversky were agents sent on behalf of the god of evolution in order to correct the situation. After them we will all ascend the evolutionary straight and narrow. Kahneman’s winning of the Nobel Prize is itself a distinctly evolutionary act, whose "purpose" (an illegal word in evolutionary discourse; the use is always borrowed) was to bring these failures to the awareness of us all and thereby improve our probabilistic thinking. Not for nothing, the worlds in which Kahneman and Tversky did not discover these failures and/or in which Kahneman did not win the Nobel Prize have gone extinct.
[5] Although, as I noted above, even if we did not know which of the calculations is the correct one, the very fact that there are two contradictory calculations is enough to define the problem as a paradox. Knowing which of them is correct only intensifies it.
[6] Achilles’ position at time t is described by 10t. The tortoise’s position at time t is 10+5t. When t=2, both have covered 20 meters, that is, that is the point at which Achilles passes the tortoise.
[7] And likewise if you sum the distances, 10 meters plus 5 plus 2.5 plus 1.25 and so on, which comes to 20 meters.
[8] Gadi Alexandrovich, in his post on the envelope paradox, defines this as a proof by contradiction, because he is referring to paradoxes created by bad definitions, and in such cases the paradox is a proof by contradiction that the definition is faulty or vague. But not all paradoxes are of that sort. For example, the envelope paradox, as he himself notes there, is not connected to the definition (later we shall see that it is connected to the lack of full definition of the problem, and not of one term or another), and therefore I prefer to relate to paradoxes as a riddle. That is a more general and more correct statement.
[9] Note that a similar state can exist even with one unknown. For example, a quadratic equation is a problem that is not fully defined. Take the equation: x2-5x+4=0 . It has two solutions: x=1,4, and of course both are correct. In order to define the problem completely (so that it will have a unique solution), one must add a constraint, for example: x>2. In such a case the only correct solution is x=4.
Of course, semantically one can view the problem as well defined, and its solution as a set of numbers rather than a single number (this is also the case with an inequality, such as: x>2).
[10] It seems to me that this may depend on the definition of probability, which is disputed among professionals (the philosophy of probability). Some view probability as a calculation of the frequency of outcomes, whereas others view it as a calculation defined mathematically for a single game.
[11] These are probabilities conditional on the fact that the envelope in my hand contains 200. Otherwise, the probabilities would not sum to 1, of course.
[12] The precise calculation is according to Bayes’ formula. I did not go into it because the result is obvious.
[13] In the course of a discussion with my son Yossi about the envelope paradox, he brought up this game.
Discussion
Indeed. Corrected.
This paradox is extremely interesting (and aggravating), and the whole column is very nice indeed. There are a few things I didn’t understand:
A. I didn’t understand your dismissal of Gadi Alexandrovich’s remarks. The solution with infinite expectations is the classic (and annoying) solution that I know. If we deal with conditional probability and only with cases where I happened to get the envelope with 100, then indeed there is no paradox and it is worth switching, as explained around note 13. How does one get from here to the conclusion that “his proposal doesn’t really solve the problem”?
B. If I may ask for some explanations of the article and the column, as a kind of free loan society for the hard of understanding.
B1.2 He argues (as I understood it) that if one computes the expectation in terms of the lower amount (X), then the expectation for choosing either envelope is 1.5X, as is indeed trivially understood to be the expected gain from the nice option we were given of choosing an envelope. The original computation (in presenting the paradox) is computed in terms of the current envelope (A) and reaches the conclusion that the expected gain from choosing the second envelope is higher than A (namely 5/4A). But this is “not correct” if one does not condition on A. What is the meaning of that claim?
B1.3 I don’t see him claiming that the conditional expectation E(B|A=a) equals a (and it’s also not clear how such a thing could even be possible. But you used a slash / there rather than a vertical bar |, so it seems I really didn’t understand the intention). It seems he is talking there about the calculation of the (conditional) probabilities, and argues that there is no justification for assuming each of them is one-half, because the amount in the envelope may affect the probability that it is the smaller amount.
I also didn’t understand his sentence “similarly E(B|B=X,A)=A” — why isn’t that =0.5A? It seems at first glance to be a typo, because he writes that the owner of the paradox correctly substituted the two expectation values. All the more so I did not manage to understand at all what he wants from the probabilities in section 1.3 after it was explained so beautifully that there is no problem with them.
I understand that in sections 1.2–1.3 he is arguing that if one does not condition on A (but rather on X), then one should compute the expectation in terms of X (and then there is no problem), and if one does condition on A, then one no longer knows the probability that this is the lower amount (and therefore the calculation is incorrect). Not that I understood the substance of the claims, but that is what it seems he is writing.
And two nitpicks:
C. “It is important to understand that a uniform distribution over all sums (that is, an infinite number of sums) is not defined, since the probability of each sum is zero.” Granted, there is no uniform distribution over all the natural numbers (that is, any countably infinite set), but what does that have to do with the claim that the probability of each sum is 0? In every continuous distribution (uniform included), the probability of each particular number is 0 (and one defines only a probability density). The reason is that in a countable set one can sum and reach a contradiction with the requirement that the sum equal 1.
D. It seems the Anna Karenina principle there is not that there is only one solution, but rather that it suffices to refute one of the steps in the proof in order to refute the proof as a whole (and therefore there may be many correct solutions). This — that is, the previous column — got me thinking about another topic, and since it is somewhat different I’ll open it in a separate question.
~ The Anna Karenina principle in halakhic and legal rulings (or taking advice from an expert) ~
We begin with a respectful anecdote – I once saw a photograph from a responsum against Rabbi Goren (about electricity on Shabbat being a Torah prohibition), and there it was written that Rabbi Goren had assumed ten false assumptions, and any one of them would suffice to refute the conclusion, but he would show that all ten were wrong..
According to this, there are a priori 1024 possible halakhic states of affairs, and only in 1 of them is Rabbi Goren’s conclusion correct. Therefore, if I assume qualitative equality between the rabbis (and therefore in a “regular” disagreement I would, as a layman, remain in doubt), then here there is a 1023/1024 chance that the dissenter is right in the conclusion.
Likewise in courts and law, under the assumption (which seems to me very reasonable) that they appoint intelligent people in order to increase the chance of hitting the truth, then in a case where two judges agree on a result that requires 2 assumptions, and the third judge disputes both assumptions, there are here two different disagreements, four possible states of affairs in total, and only in 1 of them are the two judges correct in the conclusion. But their qualitative advantage is only by a factor of 2 (if it is more, then one can increase the number of assumptions accordingly), not by a factor of 4, and therefore we should rule like the third judge (if we assume that the chance they are right in each individual dispute is 2/3, then raised to the power of the number of assumptions (2), it is already less than half).
Obviously it makes no sense to “rule” on each reason separately and go with the majority on it (a bit like the stunt whereby a prohibition established by one witness would stand and then the eater gets lashes), and for the sake of clarifying the truth one follows the reasons and not the conclusions.
I assume that in your view this conclusion is not correct (that one should estimate the truth-tracking abilities of each sage and then calculate in a dispute according to the number of assumptions, and in general according to the leaves in the full tree); I also have a vague feeling that you actually wrote about this and I forgot, but why?
In our “rough-and-tumble” over the previous column, you attacked me more than once with the claim that I am driven by emotions and therefore there is no point arguing with me. I hate ad hominem arguments, and get angry with myself when I am dragged into them, and so I hope that here I have had an opportunity to reply to them calmly (that is at least my hope…). In my opinion, ad hominem arguments are not a logical fallacy. On the contrary, these arguments are usually correct and true, except that they are not productive, since they are equally true of every person — both of hotheaded Mordechai and of Michael the logician, the cold-tempered “cold Mitnagged.” We are both cut from the same cloth and the same spirit.
For the sake of discussion I will use the game you presented near the reference to note [13]. Your solution to this problem is correct if and only if you love risk or are indifferent to risk (in literary-economic terms: the derivative of your utility function for money is not negative). If you hate risk, it is far from clear that it is worthwhile for you to take this lottery, and very likely in most cases a risk-averse investor (and thoroughly rational) would prefer to reject it. An investment manager who took an investment with this level of risk would have a very hard time justifying it before a commission of inquiry. (Incidentally, it seems to me that Kahneman called your solution the “Bernoulli error”…).
This example illustrates the tendency of logicians and mathematicians (and Supreme Court justices…) to belittle the effects of cognitive biases, heuristics, and emotions on thinking, dismissing them as “irrational emotions” to which they, supposedly, are immune. This is very evident in the opening chapters of your book No Man Rules the Spirit, where you exalt reason to the point of refusing even to accept the word of God if it contradicts your logic. For some reason it seems to you that your thinking is free of cognitive biases, but that is a mistake born of arrogance and conceit. The reason that “no man rules the spirit” is that no person is immune from cognitive biases, and in the great majority of cases he is not even aware of them. The very choice of the axioms on which the logical edifice is built is guided (usually unconsciously) by the goal at which the logician was aiming from the outset. In truth, all of us draw circles around an arrow that we first shot. (There is extensive literature on belief selection, cognitive dissonance, and more). The great innovation of Judaism is therefore that one must place a limit even on reason and logic, and that limit is the word of God; otherwise revelation would not have been necessary. That is essentially the great lesson of the binding of Isaac. Indeed, if the Holy One, blessed be He, were to reveal Himself to me and say that He is able to create a stone that He cannot lift, I would have to decide whether this was a hallucination and God had not revealed Himself to me, or whether I truly had a genuine revelation (for I am worthy of one, no?…) and then I would have to admit that something in my logic is flawed even if I cannot point to the failure. I am not claiming that the two possibilities are equal (clearly they are not…). Apparently the dispute between us is about the proper reaction given that I experienced such a revelation. You would certainly say that such a revelation cannot happen, and if it seems to me that it did, I should ignore it (“false dreams they tell”) or have myself hospitalized. From your point of view the discussion ends there. For me it would still remain a difficulty, as it is said: “For My thoughts are not your thoughts,” etc.
These cognitive biases determine which “game” each person questioned about the envelopes chooses. People who are indifferent to risk (and to probability) will tend to choose the “correct” calculation that gives an expectation of 0 for switching. Choosing an alternative game that predicts profit or loss as a result of switching testifies to the tendencies hidden in the chooser’s soul (apparently his attitude toward risk, though I have not checked this hypothesis to the end), and he is not necessarily mistaken, and therefore there is no contradiction between the different answers. After all, the problem really is not fully mathematically defined, as you explained so well. The different answers stem (apparently) from different preferences of different people. In other words, the question is how we choose to fill in what is missing in the definition, and that is where our cognitive biases come into play. To make this more intuitive, it is like the imagination of the ancients who connected points in the sky and saw in them a “lion,” “scales,” “water-bearer,” etc., or like the Rorschach test, in which each person sees in the inkblots shown to him what comes from the musings of his own heart. This is also my answer to Kahneman and his students. Our probabilistic thinking is not “failing”; rather, it is very well adapted to our survival. Without it, we would not take risks when necessary, or else we would take excessive risks (like that risk-indifferent portfolio manager when dealing with “other people’s money”), but that is a long discussion that does not belong here. I hinted to you about these biases also in a response to another column (I don’t remember which). There is extensive literature on this today. (See the holy book Rational Feelings by the great Rabbi Professor Eyal Winter, may he live long, and the sacred writings of the holy Rabbi George Akerlof, Nobel Prize groom, and more).
And note well: I am not a postmodernist, and I am not claiming that “everything is narratives.” Very likely there is an objective reality, except that not only are our senses partial and flawed and unable to grasp all of it, but apparently our logic as well is not perfect, even if we do not know how to point to its failures — and not necessarily only as a result of mistakes and lack of skill on the part of some of those engaged in it (as you tend to accuse your opponents). So true, “that’s what there is,” but one must take that “what” with very limited confidence. In the language of the moralists: we all have negios (personal biases), and therefore we need a bit of anavah (humility)…
The Briskers tell that Rabbi Chaim explained his turn to the Order of Kodashim by saying: “Because here I am the first.” That is, in the Order of Kodashim he was less beholden to the interpretations of his predecessors (because there are not many). For some reason he did not think he was free in the Orders of Nashim-Nezikin, despite what you wrote in your second book. (True, you explain there the difference between thought and halakhah, and still…). Can you swear while holding a sacred object that you arrived at your anarchistic conclusions there at the end of the analytical process, and that the analysis was not constructed retrospectively in order to justify them? If you swear, I am not the one to accuse you of a false oath. You probably believe it. But that does not mean it is true. (And see the parable of the maze in the introduction to Mesillat Yesharim).
Before you attack me back — I definitely feel great discomfort with the “Haredi spirit” that blows from what I have written here. This is, after all, a well-known Haredi-leftist-Marxist debating technique: to accuse the other person of negios, “false consciousness,” etc., in order to shut him up, and I already noted that I myself rebel when an argument I am participating in slides into that. But I admit I have no orderly answer to these claims, mainly because there is a lot of truth in them. As I said above, the problem with ad hominem arguments is not that they are necessarily fallacious, but that they are not productive. Therefore, the only answer I have to the problem of negios is that study and reason are “what there is,” but a person must possess great integrity, developed self-criticism, humility and lowliness of spirit, openness, attentiveness, and above all — limited trust even in his own reason and logic, because it is always possible that it fails even though we do not succeed in identifying the failure. Once we have arrived at belief in God and revelation, these — together with the tradition of the Oral Torah (“faith in the sages”) — are our anchor against drift, although sages too can err, and understand this well, and much more could be said, though I have already gone on longer than I intended. (That is what happens when one is stuck at home waiting for a Zoom link that doesn’t come up…).
P.S. Regarding Rabbi Meidan’s statement, I heard from truth-tellers that there are hundreds of proofs of the Pythagorean theorem, even though it is true… (Perhaps in order to disabuse those who hang on Tosafot to Bava Batra 102a, s.v. “and such as he checked diagonally,” but no proof will help them…).
Yossi Levy http://www.sci-princess.info/archives/372 handles the problem nicely.
I didn’t understand how you explain Noga Alon’s case, because when you opened and saw that there is 100 in your envelope, you check the probability that the sum in the other envelope is 1000 and the probability that it is 10 (that amount is of course fixed, but the opener’s knowledge is limited, so he has to resort to a probabilistic mechanism), and there will still be a positive expected gain.
A. The paradox in its simple form (presented at the beginning of Alexandrovich’s post) is not connected to distributions. Therefore Gadi Alexandrovich’s solution does not solve it.
B. I read the article quite a while ago already. But as I understand it, what I wrote is the essence of his claim. The mistake is not in the distribution but in calculating an expectation instead of a conditional expectation. The chances in switching really are 1/2 versus 1/2.
Obviously the conditional expectation equals the expectation of what I chose. That is exactly the meaning of the claim that there is no point in switching. The formalization is mine, not his. But that is the intent. I used a slash in the sense of a vertical bar. Word’s limitations (or my own limitations).
C. The distribution is not continuous, because the sums are not continuous.
D. It is quite possible that you are right. At the moment I think that is indeed exactly what I wrote in that column about Anna Karenina (for example regarding the explanation of disputes in halakhah).
This is what I wrote in Makor Rishon regarding conversion, and there we were speaking about 15 independent questions. The number of possibilities is 40,000.
The continuation of your remarks returns to the paradox of adjudication, which if I recall correctly I dealt with here on the site once (I found it now. See column 257).
I think that’s Gadi Alexandrovich too. There he explains Marius Cohen’s solution, and I think he means what I say here. But then it really has nothing to do with distributions, contrary to what he wrote here.
As for Noga Alon’s version, I think this is solved by what I explained regarding the form of the randomization. Does one hold one envelope in one’s hand and randomize the other one? Certainly not. One randomizes pairs of envelopes, so after the randomization there are two envelopes here with well-defined sums, and we are back to Marius Cohen without distributions. In short, one has to define the problem all the way through (exactly how the situation of the two envelopes came about).
Mordechai, שלום.
1. As for ad hominem arguments, I didn’t say they aren’t true, only that they aren’t helpful. If Reuven makes a claim and is stupid, then the claim that he is stupid and therefore wrong is of course true, but it is not helpful. From what you write here it emerges that on this we agree.
2. As for risk aversion, I completely agree and know this very well (I even wrote about it here in the past in several columns. I have now found 197, 20. But I think there are more). I deliberately chose sums for which it is reasonable to assume that what matters to the player is expected profit, because these are not large sums. The discussion is principled and not psychological. What interested me here was expected profit, not what this or that person would do (behavioral game theory). Therefore there is no point getting into a discussion of whether I belittle risk aversion or not. I expressed no position on that. I simply assumed that the goal is to maximize expected profit, and discussed the matter in light of that assumption. I would not connect this to a contradictory revelation and the proper attitude toward it. Though it is possible that you are right that there would be a difference between us in our attitude toward such a case (I do not tie it to the previous discussion, and the proof is that here I completely agree with your point about risk aversion).
Incidentally, I am more moderate (?) than you on this matter. You argue that it is legitimate to be psychologically biased and that these biases must not be ignored. By contrast, I argue that from my point of view this is not a bias at all but a thoroughly rational choice of goals and ends. The desire for profit is also a kind of bias (because profit gives you satisfaction or pleasure). So for someone else, risk causes sorrow or fear and he recoils from it. I see no difference whatsoever between the two (whereas from your words it seems that you do). In my opinion, to each his own desires. Moreover, what I wrote in the above-mentioned columns (20, 197) is exactly this: a utility function cannot be judged in terms of whether it is rational or not. Rationality is whether you act in accordance with your utility function, not the function itself. From what you write here, it seems that you are more extreme than I am on this matter. You accept psychological biases as part of the world, but it sounds as though this is some sort of after-the-fact concession, or a regrettable necessity.
3. Regarding the Briskers, I have a different explanation from the one you brought from Rabbi Chaim. In my opinion, he chose Kodashim because there one has no intuitions and common sense to contend with his formalistic conclusions. There he can be completely analytic without concern. In other areas of halakhah, when you reach some analytic conclusions, criticism from common sense can arise (“that doesn’t make sense”). Or perhaps his words are really my words.
4. I really do feel that my anarchistic conclusions arose from straightforward study of the matter. On the contrary, my sense is that I did not believe in them so long as I was subject to accepted conceptions. And when I was freed from them and came clean (as it seemed to me), these were the required conclusions. That is also why I explain and justify them. But of course there is no one who is not biased, and I can never be certain what exactly led me to my conclusions. Precisely because of this I think there is no point rummaging around in it. I need to try to be as clean as I can, and from there on, the Torah was not given to ministering angels. (So we are back to agreement between us in section 2).
5. I am really not attacking you, but joining every word you wrote at the end. It is quite possible that I have negios, like everyone. We are all human beings. But since this is not productive, one should focus on the substantive discussion, that is, on the arguments. Again we agree.
6. Incidentally, I am even willing to accept that there may be mistakes in my logic (that is, that what I see as contradictions are not contradictions). And from this it follows that if I were to have a contradictory revelation, there would definitely be room to adopt your position toward it (as described in section 2). I simply think that so long as I have not discovered the mistake, I cannot accept a position that is contradictory in my eyes. In order to cause me to adopt it, one has to show me that there is no contradiction here (even if not to solve the difficulty, at least one has to show that there is no logical contradiction here. I detailed this in my article on belief in logical contradictions; see there carefully: https://mikyab.net/%D7%9B%D7%AA%D7%91%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9E%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%94%D7%90%D7%9D-%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%95%D7%A0%D7%94-%D7%91%D7%A1%D7%AA%D7%99%D7%A8%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%9C%D7%95%D7%92%D7%99%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%99%D7%90-%D7%90%D7%A4%D7%A9%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%AA1).
7. Regarding your comment about the Pythagorean theorem, much could be said at length. First, one must distinguish between a proof and an explanation. There can be many proofs, since each can be examined to see whether it is correct or not. Explanations, by contrast, cannot really be examined (one can only ask whether it makes sense), and therefore the existence of multiple explanations is suspicious (though of course possible in principle). Second, one should examine whether there is no mapping between the different proofs, and in truth we are dealing with different formulations of the same proof. This is an interesting philosophical and mathematical question, and I do not now have the ability to analyze it (I am not sure I have the tools for it, but I believe mathematicians can say something intelligent about it).
I assume you do not disagree with me regarding the difference between the Scroll of Esther and Ruth, and regarding the fact that this example expresses a correct phenomenon.
To conclude, I repeat my appreciation for you as I wrote at the beginning of the storm, but I do not retract my view that on that topic you were very biased and it was impossible to conduct the discussion in a reasonable way (I assume that is how you feel about me too). Well, we have already agreed here that we are all human beings and we all have biases, sensitive points, and blind spots. And et vahev besufah. 🙂
(Further on he discusses it with Gadi Alexandrovich, but the writer is Yossi Levy.)
If one chooses some natural number i with probability 0.5^i (that is, 1 with probability 0.5, 2 with probability 0.25, and so on) and puts 10^i in one envelope and 10^(i+1) in the second, and suppose the two envelopes were chosen in advance,
the calculation of Marius Cohen is correct as long as the envelopes have not been opened, because then one can gain a fixed amount or lose it, but once the envelope is opened and one finds in it, say, 100, then the opener has gained information (that the chosen number is either 1 or 2), and so he can calculate the probability that the other envelope contains 10 and the probability that it contains 1000 (that is, the probability that 1 was chosen and the probability that 2 was chosen), and that is the previous calculation.
In the link I brought above he says that it really is worthwhile to switch once, but that this result is always correct — meaning one can open the envelope and, without looking at the amount, switch, and that sounds like a paradoxical result.
By 10^i I mean 10 to the power of i; I thought it would sort itself out when the comment was published. Is there a way to write it normally?
Here I don’t see an absurdity. So switch indeed. It is similar to Yossi’s children case.
If this is correct, one should take some envelope, open it, see the amount, and take the second one. But the result of such an algorithm is predetermined, so one could just take the second envelope from the outset.
The result of this thing is a bizarre ritual intended only to pacify the probabilities and not to maximize profits.
For this case too, his explanation (about the distribution over infinitely many sums) is not relevant. As I wrote in the column, the expected-value calculation of a closed envelope is not important here. We have two envelopes with fixed sums inside them, and once I opened the envelope I know what sum I have in hand. Why should one average over all the possible pairs?
And if you are talking about repeating the experiment over and over, and choosing only the situations in which the opened envelope contains 100 NIS and averaging only over them, then we are back to my explanation. It depends on how you choose the pairs of envelopes.
At this point I think that maybe what we really have here is a difference between expectation and the advisability of switching. Something like the St. Petersburg paradox; there too the criterion of expectation is very poor for determining strategy. And perhaps this itself is what Alexandrovich meant as well.
I started reading yesterday the article you referred me to, but then I had to stop because of a Zoom meeting, and besides, it is long, dense, and demanding, so I did not manage to finish it. I will take this upon myself as a task.
It is nice that we can sometimes agree too, but still one must not exaggerate (lest we become addicted to it, Heaven forbid), and therefore –
We agreed that ad hominem arguments are not always fallacious, and are unproductive. But I do not agree that therefore there is no point “rummaging around in it.” If you agree with me that a person must have constant self-criticism, attentiveness, and openness in order to monitor the effects of his cognitive biases, then you are in fact agreeing with the claim of the moralists that a person must constantly engage in working on the soul. That is, to “rummage around in it” day and night, so that he does not slide into lack of self-awareness and thereby intensify his negios and, as a consequence, their effect on his thought and judgment. Therefore, both when I taught face to face (thank God, today I am exempt from that) and in my books (I did not write deep philosophical books like you, only textbooks for the Open University…), I repeatedly emphasized to my students that we, especially those engaged in the social sciences, must criticize ourselves for fear of cognitive biases almost obsessively, and maybe, just maybe, it will help. (But those engaged in mathematics and the natural sciences are not exempt from this either).
This “rummaging” also has an important practical implication. In several places you explained that you recognize “substantive authority” and “formal authority,” but that these are unrelated to “facts,” where in your view there is no authority. In my humble opinion, there is also another kind of authority that one might call “moral authority.” That is, a person whom I have reason to assume is more “clean” (in your terms) of cognitive biases, and therefore it is reasonable to assume that his discretion and judgment (professional, logical, or in any other matter) are more correct than mine (as the author of Mesillat Yesharim explains in the parable of the maze in his introduction, to which I referred above). This authority, in my humble opinion, exists also with respect to “facts.” Who is the person to whom one should attribute moral authority, and how is he to be identified? That is a question to which I have no clear answer. But I have met in my life quite a number of exemplary figures about whom I intuitively felt this way. For the sake of discussion, if Maimonides says something, I will not easily disagree with him just because my own analysis led me to other conclusions. There is still a non-negligible possibility that his analysis is “cleaner” than mine. Maybe this is not a decisive consideration, but it is nevertheless a consideration that must not be ignored, and certainly not belittled.
I have much more to elaborate, but for various reasons this is difficult for me at the moment. May it be granted that we can “mix it up” (calmly and peacefully) in better days and face to face. Still, I will not refrain here from two nice anecdotes.
1) In the office of my adviser, Prof. Eitan Sheshinski, there once hung a cartoon showing two stern scientists examining a punched tape as long as the exile itself, spewing out of a huge computer (the kind that used to fill an entire hall), and one turns to the other and says: “Perhaps, before we convene a press conference to announce that we have disproved quantum theory, we should check our calculations again?”…
By the way, when I searched for this cartoon on Google Images I didn’t find it, but I did find the following nice link, which will surely furnish some future column of yours…
https://sharp-thinking.com/2014/10/03/%D7%A2%D7%9C-%D7%9E%D7%97%D7%99%D7%A8-%D7%94%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%AA-%D7%95%D7%AA%D7%95%D7%A2%D7%9C%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%90%D7%A9%D7%9C%D7%99%D7%94/
The young fellow in that link comes out against “comforting lies.” For some reason it does not occur to him for a moment that his own choice of “rationality” and “scientificity” and so on may itself stem from the fact that it makes him feel good… (satisfaction, a sense of being wise, an academic position, a sense of superiority, and the like).
2) When I worked at the State Comptroller’s Office (many years ago), I once came across in the Treasury archives a letter from Prof. Milton Friedman to the then Minister of Finance, Shimon Peres. Friedman wrote to Peres that many people tend to identify an economic-political ideology with its goals, while ignoring the means it advocates for achieving them. One of the sentences from that rather long letter that remained engraved in my memory was: “If socialism were defined only by its goals and declarations, perhaps I too would be a socialist.” By the way, on this I disagree with Friedman. In my opinion socialism is wrong ethically too, not only because its promises are unrealizable, but that is another discussion.
This is a good example of the negios I was talking about. When I mentioned the brilliant intellectuals who flocked after Stalin, I did not mean to compare you either to Stalin or to Hitler. (Heaven forbid — whatever gave you that idea?). I meant that the mistake of those geniuses (Russell was certainly a genius in his field) was exactly the one Friedman pointed to in his letter. They very much wanted to believe in the “brave new world” that socialism would bring, and the human cognitive biases that operate on every person operated on them as well, blinding them to the true nature of the Soviet socialist paradise. Another example that is surely familiar to you is Richard Dawkins. In your book God Plays with Dice you accuse him of lack of philosophical skill. You may be right (I am not qualified to judge). But he certainly is not stupid or ignorant and benighted. Moreover, it may be that he is no less philosophically skilled than you, but biased because he very much wants to reach a result with which he feels better than he does with the alternative. (To my intuitive sense, that is the more likely possibility).
3) I said two, but I remembered one more that I simply “must” mention. We were once sitting, a group of fellows in Yeshivat HaNegev in Netivot, and Rabbi Reuven Gershonovitz, of blessed memory, passed by us. After he had moved far enough away, one of us asked (I do not remember who): “Suppose Rabbi Reuven were to arrive at an atheistic conclusion — would he throw off the frock coat and the homburg and go off the derekh?” I remember that after an argument we reached a consensus that this would not happen. Even if he were to lose his faith (which I am certain did not happen), he would prefer to pretend he still believed as before rather than lose the little ‘this-worldliness’ he still had left (status as a ‘genius’ and ‘tzaddik,’ a salary from the yeshiva, etc.). Not long ago I read that a group of researchers from Bar-Ilan claims that in both the religious and Haredi public there is a phenomenon of closet atheists that also includes ramim in yeshivot, mashgichim, and community rabbis who have lost their faith but are trapped in their identity. Some of them are aware of their cognitive dissonance, but apparently most deny it, as above.
In conclusion: philosophical-logical analysis is “what we have.” But one should place in it trust of 100% minus epsilon. One can argue about the size of epsilon, and it is probably a function of the personality traits of each and every thinker.
Unfortunately, we are agreeing again, perhaps with the exception of epsilon.
I agree that one should be clear-eyed and suspect oneself of negios, but I am not in favor of rummaging. Obsessions have never helped anyone. The line between this and that is of course not clearly defined.
Substantive authority exists mainly with respect to facts. That is the authority of the expert. Formal authority does not exist with respect to facts (= the obligation to accept something just because some authorized person said it).
I agree that there is purity of judgment, but I really do not tend to give it too high a status. I think there are many people of pure judgment who are also very wise and who talk nonsense (the Haredi leadership these days proves it). Therefore the highest arbiter is intellectual and logical analysis.
1. Like the young fellow (whom I have not yet read), I do not regard rational thinking as a bias. It does indeed give us rest and satisfaction, but that is a side effect. The satisfaction is because it is the truth. By contrast, in biases, the satisfaction leads to adopting the view that it is the truth. The relativism that treats rationality as one option among many seems demagogic to me, begging your pardon.
3. Regarding the group of researchers, I have sat at the graves of quite a number of such people (closet atheists).
Morris Cohen is right. The second calculation is based on an imaginary desire that minimizes the loss. Or in other words, the assumption that the envelope contains that same fixed amount X is mistaken, because the amounts in the envelopes depend on one another and their sum is fixed.
I’d like to propose another solution:
Let us define the problem as follows:
We randomly choose some number X between 0 and N with a uniform distribution. After the draw, we put X shekels into one envelope and 2X shekels into a second envelope. I offer some innocent passerby to choose one of the envelopes without knowing X or N. Now I offer him to switch the envelope in his hand.
Let A be the amount in the passerby’s hand before the switch (which is either X or 2X).
Now let us calculate the expected gain from switching:
E_Switch=0.5*E_Doubling-0.5*E_Halving.
E_Doubling = the expected gain in the doubling case
E_Halving = the expected loss in losing half
Now let us calculate E_Doubling:
Only if A took the value X and not 2X, only then will a doubling occur. That is, given the doubling scenario, A is distributed like X, i.e. uniformly between 0 and N, and its expectation is 0.5N, which is also the expected gain in the doubling case.
Now let us calculate E_Halving:
Only if A took the value 2X and not X, only then will halving occur. That is, given the halving scenario, A is distributed like 2X, i.e. uniformly between 0 and 2N, and its expectation is N. And the expected loss from losing half is half of that, namely N/2.
Now let us substitute back:
E_Switch=0.5*0.5N-0.5*0.5N=0
What do you think?
There are three problems with this solution.
1. What you are really proposing here is calculation 3 (the ordinary expectation calculation), and I already explained that the fact that there is a calculation that gives the correct result is not a solution to the paradox. You need to explain why the erroneous solution is erroneous.
2. The events depend on one another, and you did not take this into account. You choose two envelopes that are linked, one X and the other 2X. Therefore one cannot assign equal probability to each of them.
3 (related to the first), once the segment N is finite, the distribution is not uniform. If you chose X=0.75N, for example, there is no possibility of getting 2X that would still be in the range. X can only go up to half of N. Likewise, once N is an integer, a choice of 2X (the larger sum) that is odd cannot occur. And if you mean all real values (not just integers) up to N, then one should speak about a probability density rather than a probability.
I will try to explain in words what is wrong in the wrong solution:
When calculating the expectation of the gain from switching — X, one must also take into account the distribution of A (the amount before switching), and its conditional distribution given a doubling scenario and a halving scenario. Given a doubling scenario, the expectation of A is smaller than its expectation given a halving scenario (because if A is a number between N and 2N, doubling cannot occur). What I did was to insert the consideration of the distribution of A into the wrong formula for X, and I showed that when one takes it into account, everything works out.
I’m not entirely sure I understood, but it seems to me that this is exactly Gil’s solution. In any case, you are talking about a finite interval. As I wrote, every solution deals with a different problem.
I wanted to propose another solution and would be glad to hear what you think about it:
Suppose I have a sequence of N envelope amounts, where N tends to infinity. Each envelope amount is Sn=2^n. Each pair of envelopes contains the amounts Sn,Sn-1 where n runs from 2 to N. From this one can see that the sums S1 and S_N are the only ones that appear once across all envelope pairs, and all the others appear twice. For example, S3 appears once with S4 and a second time with S2. But as for S1 and SN, they appear only once, with S2 and S_N-1 respectively. From this one can calculate the distribution of the variable x that represents the amount in the envelope I receive. From there one proceeds to calculate the expected gain from switching by breaking the expectation into three possibilities: given that I received the envelope with S1, switching yields me a gain of 2; if I received the envelope S_N, switching yields me a loss of 2 to the power N-1; and if I received any other envelope that is neither S1 nor S_N, the expected gain from switching is one quarter of Sn. When one performs the calculation, one sees that the total expected gain from switching is exactly zero.
That is, because there is some small chance that I chose the envelope with the maximal amount, and because switching that envelope yields the biggest loss of any switch, this loss in fact balances all the other gains so as to zero out the expectation. One can choose N as large as one likes or let N tend to infinity in order to simulate the problem as an infinite problem.
I no longer remember the details of what I wrote here (in the question that came yesterday I even forgot that there was such a column 🙂 This already happened not long ago with the column on enhancement in the Hanukkah lamp, and I don’t know whether this is because of the large number of columns or my age and senility).
As for what you say, it seems that you are right. But you described one specific distributional situation here. The feeling is that the paradox is general. Beyond that, it seems to me that your solution is no different from the standard solution (which makes it depend on the distribution).
I am reading this column, via a link from your site, today on the date 29.06.2025, and the mistake of a probability of 1/2 after the switch is still there.
In addition to the condition that the host must open a door with a goat, one must also assume that when the host has the option of opening 2 doors with goats, he chooses between them with equal probability for each one to be opened.
Obviously.
Strange. I’ve corrected it now.
The condition that the host opens one of the doors at random, when he has the option of choosing between two doors (that is, in the case where the first choice was the door with the prize), is a very important condition. For if it does not hold, one can show by an analysis of conditional probability that the result will depend on the host’s inclinations.
Which shows that your analysis is not correct, because your analysis shows that the probability of winning increases to 2/3 after switching, and it makes no reference at all to the host’s inclinations. That is, in order for your analysis to be precise, it must be carried out by means of conditional-probability calculations.
I did not understand the point of this message. This is obvious, as I wrote.
In order to clarify my criticism of your solution to the Monty Hall problem, let us denote the door the player initially chose as door A, and the door the host opened and showed to have a goat behind it as door B, and the question is whether the player should switch his choice to door C.
Clearly we assume that the host always opens a door behind which there is a goat. But note that if the player chose door A, and if the car is behind door B or behind door C, the host can open only one door (door C or door B, respectively). But if the car is behind door A (which is the door the player originally chose), the host has two possible doors to open, door B or door C.
Using a conditional-probability analysis shows that the chances of winning after switching depend on the distribution governing the host’s choice between the two doors in the situation where he has a choice between them. The analysis shows that the probability is 2/3 if and only if the choice between the two doors is random, that is, each of the two doors has an equal probability (namely 1/2) of being opened.
But if the host’s inclination is biased in such a way that in the situation where he can open one of two doors, B or C, he tends, for example, always to open door B, then the probability of winning without switching is 1/2 and equal to the probability of winning with switching, and that means there is no reason for the player to switch to door C. And if, for example, his inclination is always to choose door C in that situation, then there is 100% certainty of winning after the switch (and not just 2/3).
And this contradicts your analysis, which is based on the mistaken assumption that the probability that the door initially chosen is the correct one was 1/3 at the time of the initial choice and remains so even after the door is opened by the host (from which you infer that the probability of winning after switching is 2/3).
In the Monty Hall problem, the probability after switching is 2/3 and not 1/2 as you wrote.
That is when the formulation is that the host is required to open one door with a goat.
If the host is not required to open a door with a goat, then the problem has no probabilistic aspect, since his motives are unknown.