I express completely or nearly-completely subjective degrees of belief as numbers (and hear people doing the same) so often that I sometimes forget that not everybody does that, and take a while to realize why people hearing us talk look startled. (I guess that’s what happens when most of the people I hang around with are physicists, and many of those who aren’t are into sports bets and/or poker.) I don’t think I “feel so much more Bayesian” for that (except to the extent that I know frequentists would feel an even more painful kick), though; I mostly take that to be a figure of speech, as TheOtherDave says.
Possibly related… I developed the mannerism with my husband of answering rhetorical questions with oddly precise arbitrary numbers a while ago, mostly as an expression of dislike of rhetorical questions. (As in “How weird is that?” “Twelve.”) It amuses him, lets me blow off steam, and really bewilders listeners.
Possibly related… I developed the mannerism with my husband of answering rhetorical questions with oddly precise arbitrary numbers a while ago, mostly as an expression of dislike of rhetorical questions. (As in “How weird is that?” “Twelve.”) It amuses him, lets me blow off steam, and really bewilders listeners.
That’s a really good idea. I’m going to make it my new policy!
I express completely or nearly-completely subjective degrees of belief as numbers (and hear people doing the same) so often that I sometimes forget that not everybody does that, and take a while to realize why people hearing us talk look startled. (I guess that’s what happens when most of the people I hang around with are physicists, and many of those who aren’t are into sports bets and/or poker.) I don’t think I “feel so much more Bayesian” for that (except to the extent that I know frequentists would feel an even more painful kick), though; I mostly take that to be a figure of speech, as TheOtherDave says.
Possibly related… I developed the mannerism with my husband of answering rhetorical questions with oddly precise arbitrary numbers a while ago, mostly as an expression of dislike of rhetorical questions. (As in “How weird is that?” “Twelve.”) It amuses him, lets me blow off steam, and really bewilders listeners.
I’ve done this for years, and “Twelve” is my go-to number. So much so, that my wife often preempts my retort with “And don’t you say ‘twelve’!”.
Sometimes I throw a “Seven” in there, just because I’m a wild and crazy guy.
I’m amused; my husband and I have precisely that dynamic. And I use seventeen as my alternate meaningless number, in almost exactly the same way.
Is that because of the humbug?
That’s a really good idea. I’m going to make it my new policy!