Pangloss Lenses

Murphy’s Law is most frequently referenced by engineers, but one hears it applied to other aspects of life as well. It is usually stated as “If anything can go wrong, it will,” often with the codicil “and at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way.” Sometimes it is given the further expansion, “No matter how idiot-proof something is, there always will be an idiot who rises to the challenge.” The sentiment is thousands of years old, but the term Murphy’s Law dates to 1949 at Murdoc (later renamed Edwards) Air Force Base. Edward R. Murphy was an aerospace engineer who uttered a version of this when sensors failed to work on a rocket sled test.
 
Strictly speaking, it is untrue, at least with regard to one-off events. The universe is indifferent, not malicious. But probabilistically it is true. Given enough time, what can happen will. If a machine part can fail, with repeated use it sooner or later will – maybe the first time, maybe the thousandth, but it will happen. If a human can err in a particular way (e.g. by leaving shut the valves of the backup cooling system at Three Mile Island in violation of safety regulations), eventually someone will. Another example of human error involves the cargo door issue (later corrected) on the old DC10 aircraft. The cargo doors were double doors that opened outward for greater convenience and more interior space. The latches were extra strong. There was not a single incident with the aircraft doors when they were properly closed. The engineering mistake was the assumption that ground loading crews always would close them properly. They didn’t. Improperly latched doors opened in flight on more than one occasion with tragic consequences.
 
Murphy’s Law may seem a pessimistic way of looking at things, but actually it is not. Engineering schools dwell on it so that their students will strive to eliminate what “can go wrong.” If anything, it is optimistic to believe they can do that successfully.
 
Though there are individual exceptions, people in general are hardwired to be pessimistic about the world at large but optimistic about themselves: “Everything is going to hell in a handbasket, but I’ll make it.” This makes evolutionary sense. In the wild, you are more likely to survive if you pessimistically assume that a rustle in the brush is a predator whether it really is or not; you are also more likely to survive if you optimistically assume you can escape a predator by running rather than pessimistically assume you cannot and so just wait for the end.
 
At the personal level, optimists often are wrong. Studies show that pessimists judge their own prospects more accurately, a condition known as depressive realism. Nonetheless, optimists do better in life than pessimists, presumably because pessimists don’t bother to try as much. Optimists are healthier than pessimists. They live longer, make more money, and are happier. However, as with so many other things, optimism is best in moderation. A comparison of moderate optimists with extreme optimists published in the Journal of Financial Economics showed that moderates worked longer, saved more, invested better, and more often paid the full balances on credit cards. Extreme optimists (presumably betting that all would work out for the best regardless) worked less, saved less, invested more riskily, day traded more, carried more debt, and were far more likely to smoke. Unsurprisingly, the overconfidence displayed by extreme optimists often ends badly.
 

As I grow older I find my previous inclinations to outward pessimism and inward optimism reversing. For all its problems (many of them severe), the world at large is still a better place than it was 100 years ago or 50 years ago: richer, safer, cleaner. Today’s doomsayers are no more right than were the ones of the 1960s (e.g. as in The Population Bomb) who predicted worldwide starvation and catastrophic resource depletion well before 2000. That is not being Pollyanna. There are a lot of real global challenges to face, but those folks predicting the extinction of civilization within this century are likely to be disappointed. On the other hand, on a personal level it is hard to ignore the detrimental effects of aging or the realities of actuarial tables. There is only so much optimism I can maintain about that. There is an unexpected benefit to the lowering of future private expectations that comes with each passing year however: being happy with what one has becomes easier.
 

Frank Sinatra – The Best is Yet to Come

[a temerariously optimistic song for Frank at age 64]