My older kid is getting braces in a few weeks. Based on the expected time he has to wear them, it’ll cost about $350/month. That’s a car lease. I’m not complaining (God: “he’s complaining”), I just suffer from chronic numeraire substitution. I’ll come back to the braces thing in a bit, but let’s chat some other stuff for a bit.
My sons are in 4th and 7th grade. A nuisance I will one day miss is shuttling them and their friends all around. We talk about lots of stuff, but stuff is often made of numbers, so I end up teaching them how to reason numerically about real-life stuff in an organic way in the context of things they find interesting. Yay. Except they groan because they know it’s coming. But I believe in osmosis and their future selves will be thankful. Or at least have endearing stories at my funeral about their old man being a crank who also happened to love them. And since they might have kids of their own one day, appreciate, just as I do now when I think about my parents, that we’re all just making shit up as we go.
Where were we before my inner monologue took over, ah yes, car convo. I got the boys in the car with another friend headed to practice. The 7th graders said they were learning scientific notation. Shouldn’t have told me that. Immediate quiz. Represent 1/50th in scientific notation.
I was impressed. I listened to his friend reason aloud for about 20 seconds before getting 2 x 10⁻²
Zak got the answer faster than I did. The Math Academy lessons are paying off.
Why is scientific notation useful?
To torture us.
Besides that.
“I don’t know, [proceed to fumble around for explanations before landing on something that tracks]. Because we need to measure stuff in micrograms? Is there even such a thing as micrograms?”
Very good. That makes sense. From the stars to bacteria and atoms scientists deal with things that are really big or really small. It’s right there in the name: SCIENTIFIC notation. We talked about how insane the idea of a light year is for a bit before arriving at the gym but not before I told them next time they watch YouTube, instead of watching Jesser we’re gonna learn about the Fermi Paradox which they theorized naturally but didn’t realize it was a famous contradiction.
On the way home from practice, the kids started talking about IQ. I forget what the comment was, but it indicated that they did not understand that an IQ of 100 is normalized to be the average. Sweet. We get to learn about bell curves right now.
I explain that 15 points is 1 standard deviation which encompasses 68% of the population. So to be greater than 1 standard deviation means being in the top 16%, since the 32 remaining percent have to be split between the lower and upper parts of the population, leaving 16% ABOVE 1 standard deviation.
2 standard deviation outperformance means top 2%.
I note that my scientific notation quiz asked for 1/50. Your father is psychic.
[Between that and the fact that I predicted that Axl Rose, who’s friends with AC/DC and lives in LA is probably at the Rose Bowl concert we were at last May, only to have him walk out from backstage about 60 seconds after I said that, they might think I’m a witch.]
Then we do 3 standard deviations. That encompasses 99.73%. For just the upper, it’s about 1.3 per 1000; let’s call it 1 in 750.
Given the size of your middle school, there are probably 2 kids that smart.
Except for that your school isn’t a random draw from the population.
We’re a long way from where I grew up. That night I explained to them that the test they took in 3rd grade, where they got 2 standard deviations above the mean, wasn’t even close to getting accepted to the local GAT program. Sorry boys, you’re not Asian enough and that’s on me.
Wanting to change the topic from IQ, I brought up height. After all, we just left hoops. I invented some numbers. The average adult American male is 5’9 with a standard deviation of 3”.
We stepped through the progression.
A 6’0 man is taller than 5 out of 6 men. (1 st dev)
6’3 and you’re 1 in 50. (2 st dev)
6’6 and you’re 1 in 750. In the running for the tallest boy in H.S. (3 st dev)
(Although selection effects need another nod here).
7-footers are 5 sigma. Using just the right-tail probability that’s 1 in 3.5 million.
This was a chance to apply their newfound knowledge of scientific notation.
How many 7-footers do you expect in the world if there are 3.5 billion adult men?
A million is 6 zeros. 10⁶. A billion is 9 zeros.
9 zeros divided by 6 zeros leaves us with 3 zeros.
We expect 1,000 7-footers.
Google says it’s estimated that there is “2,800” 7-footers in the world which the CDC statistically extrapolated using a standard deviation of 2.9 to 3. Small differences add up when you start adding sigmas such that our final estimate is off by a factor of 3. But hey, the right order of magnitude.
While we were countin’ sigmas the 9-year-old wants to know how Wemby exists. Wemby is officially listed as 7’4. There’s online debate as to whether his height is underreported and if it’s really 7’5. We’ll use that since it’s 6 standard deviations.
Siri, what’s the probability of an event beyond 6 standard deviations? 1 in 500mm. One-tailed, 1 in a billion. Wemby.
Statistically speaking you wouldn’t expect to have enough 7’4 mutants to assemble a starting 5 lineup but in reality you there’s enough of them to at least field a football team. Waves hand in the shape of epsilon.
Anyway, in service of handy takeaways, it’s useful to remember that a 3 standard deviation extreme on 1 side of a bell curve occurs about 1 in 750. For quick math, call it 1 in 1,000 or 10³. So if you’re talking about the American population of 3 x 10⁸, the number of 3 sigma people on a particular trait would fit in an MLB stadium.
Or about the same number of people who subscribe to moontower. See, you’re all 3 sigma! ❤️
Speaking of…
Moontower is 7 years old.
The first issue was March 17, 2019. This is Moontower #307, Munchies is up to #146, there’s been 96 paywalled posts, plus possibly the single largest archive of options blog posts on the internet. (ChatGPT mentions Larry McMillan and Kirk DuPlessis as being similarly if not more prolific.) Fyi, nearly everything I’ve ever published is indexed here and religiously updated so when robots erase me it is in totality. Thanks for following. I never expected to be writing this long. I didn’t expect anything.
Addendum on braces:
I wore braces from freshman to senior year of high school. My son will get his off about a month into freshman year. How’s that for generational progress.
The braces thing conjures something of a subway platform riddle for demographics where I can’t tell if the world is moving or me. My little guy got “spacers” in 3rd grade and will wear a retainer for 2 years. I’m like, is getting braces twice a new thing, or something I just never would have seen in my strata growing up?
I’ve noticed 2 other versions of this demographic subway platform riddle.
The older kid is now past the halfway point of middle school and I still never hear of fistfights. Growing up, at least every other week, the beacon went up, “FIGHT!!!”. Social class or changing times?
Finally, skiing. This one isn’t a riddle but it’s so jarring. I was 20 years old the first time I stepped on a mountain. Here’s school in the winter feels optional. Everyone has a cabin in Tahoe, all the dads are metereologists, and an expert on MTN stock.
Cold, heights and ski lifts, driving on dangerous roads?
I think I’ll just binge Nelly & Ashanti: We Belong Together thank you very much.
[We did knock this out in 2 nights. Plenty of time to cancel the 1-week Peacock subscription it required. I friggin’ love Nelly and so much more after watching the show. He comes off as an amazing father, raising both of his own as well as his sister’s kids when she passed at a young age. The only thing that bugs me is how good he looks at age 50. Save something for the rest of us bruh.]





























