A coin does not land heads fifty one percent of the time. It lands the way it started fifty one percent of the time. Nobody has ever checked how it started.
Persi Diaconis says the toss is not random at all. If you know the speed the coin leaves your thumb and how many times a second it turns, Newton gives you the answer before it lands. What we call randomness is only the map of those two numbers, where the bands for heads and tails sit closer and closer together until a difference too small to control decides it.
Getting real numbers out of real people took him three hours with a friend and a stopwatch, counting one two three flip until they were in sync. To measure the spin he taped three feet of dental floss to a coin and unwound it after every throw to count the turns. He admits the floss changes the toss, then shrugs, because every measurement disturbs the thing it measures.
A normal flip lasts half a second and the coin travels about five and a half miles an hour. Slower than you walk. And through all of it the answer comes out fifty one to forty nine, toward the face that was already up.
The part that should bother you is what he says next. He does not care how hard you flip it. You can flip it to the moon. The bias is stable, it is provable, and it is not an experimental finding, it is a theorem. Describing a real coin properly takes twelve parameters, because coins wobble as they turn, and he ran the whole thing in twelve dimensions anyway.
One percent, permanent, sitting inside the object everyone reaches for when they want something to be fair.
The casino is not worried about loaded dice. It is worried about the people who have learned to slide them.
Persi Diaconis explains the method plainly. Nevada schools teach players to send the die across the felt so it spins flat and never turns over, keeping one face on top the whole way, and nobody has to be good at it, because being slightly better than chance already beats a house edge measured in fractions of a percent.
The counter is sitting in plain sight. That diamond patterned rubber at the back of every craps table exists to force a violent tumble, and once a die hits it, Diaconis says no control of any kind survives.
He also takes his own theorem apart with a chocolate bar, arguing a fair five sided die into existence out of a Toblerone and then explaining why the answer quietly depends on whether you catch it, drop it in sand or bounce it on glass.
Watch his hands while he describes the sliding throw. For a second the mathematician steps back and the magician answers instead.
A mathematician stood in front of a room at MIT and told them the model behind every risk calculation on Wall Street cannot be right.
He filmed it once, in 2001. He died nine years later.
Benoit Mandelbrot. The man who coined the word fractal.
His argument fits in three lines.
Standard finance assumes price moves follow a bell curve. Under that assumption a move ten times the standard deviation has odds so small it should not occur once in the age of the universe. Look at real markets and those moves show up constantly.
So the model is not slightly off. It is the wrong shape entirely.
Your gut says a market this big must average out over time. He shows a century of price data and says it never smooths. Zoom in to a minute, zoom out to a year, the jaggedness stays the same kind of jaggedness.
34:39 he puts five price charts on screen. Some are real markets. Some he generated himself with a coin flip and one simple rule. He tells the room most people cannot tell which is which, and he is right.
39:13 the line that sticks. Over the last ten years, ten days mattered. The great fortunes and the great ruins both happened in a handful of sessions.
43:03 he describes what happened when people first ran the standard statistical test on real prices. The result came back looking like pure random noise, and the reaction was horror. The tool everyone trusted could not tell a crash from static.
49:59 he describes how his own model has been received. Widely respected. Widely criticized. Widely hated.
Watch what he does when he is about to say something the room will not like. He pauses, half smiles, and says it anyway, at seventy seven years old, in a building full of people who built careers on the thing he is dismantling.
You were told markets are unpredictable and you heard that as smooth and average. He spent fifty years saying the opposite.
A mathematician stood in front of a room at MIT and told them the model behind every risk calculation on Wall Street cannot be right.
He filmed it once, in 2001. He died nine years later.
Benoit Mandelbrot. The man who coined the word fractal.
His argument fits in three lines.
Standard finance assumes price moves follow a bell curve. Under that assumption a move ten times the standard deviation has odds so small it should not occur once in the age of the universe. Look at real markets and those moves show up constantly.
So the model is not slightly off. It is the wrong shape entirely.
Your gut says a market this big must average out over time. He shows a century of price data and says it never smooths. Zoom in to a minute, zoom out to a year, the jaggedness stays the same kind of jaggedness.
34:39 he puts five price charts on screen. Some are real markets. Some he generated himself with a coin flip and one simple rule. He tells the room most people cannot tell which is which, and he is right.
39:13 the line that sticks. Over the last ten years, ten days mattered. The great fortunes and the great ruins both happened in a handful of sessions.
43:03 he describes what happened when people first ran the standard statistical test on real prices. The result came back looking like pure random noise, and the reaction was horror. The tool everyone trusted could not tell a crash from static.
49:59 he describes how his own model has been received. Widely respected. Widely criticized. Widely hated.
Watch what he does when he is about to say something the room will not like. He pauses, half smiles, and says it anyway, at seventy seven years old, in a building full of people who built careers on the thing he is dismantling.
You were told markets are unpredictable and you heard that as smooth and average. He spent fifty years saying the opposite.
The man who went to prison for talking people out of their money drew the entire mechanism on a whiteboard for free.
190 thousand people watched it. Almost none of them noticed he was describing what gets done to them.
Jordan Belfort, 11 minutes, no pitch until the last thirty seconds.
The idea starts simple. When someone says "let me think about it", nothing mysterious is happening. They have a pile of reasons to buy and a pile of reasons not to. The salesperson spends the entire conversation adding to one pile and removing from the other. At some point the scale tips and the person says yes.
That part you already knew.
Here is the part that matters. Belfort says the pivot point of that scale sits in a different place for every person. Some people need almost nothing to say yes. Others can have twelve reasons to buy and one nagging doubt, and the doubt wins.
He calls it your action threshold.
Then the second half. A good salesperson is not only stacking the piles. They are also moving the pivot point itself, temporarily, with specific language patterns, so a careful person becomes an easy one for the length of the call.
He does not teach those patterns here. He says that is separate training, and links the course.
5:57 is the moment worth the click. He puts himself on the easy end of his own scale and says flatly that he buys everything. The man who built the method admits it works on him.
7:07 he puts his father on the opposite end. His father had died the week before. He says it twice, with a may he rest in peace attached both times, and keeps drawing.
You will sit through some call this year where every objection you raise gets handled a little too smoothly. Watch this first and you will feel the pivot point moving while it happens.
The man who went to prison for talking people out of their money drew the entire mechanism on a whiteboard for free.
190 thousand people watched it. Almost none of them noticed he was describing what gets done to them.
Jordan Belfort, 11 minutes, no pitch until the last thirty seconds.
The idea starts simple. When someone says "let me think about it", nothing mysterious is happening. They have a pile of reasons to buy and a pile of reasons not to. The salesperson spends the entire conversation adding to one pile and removing from the other. At some point the scale tips and the person says yes.
That part you already knew.
Here is the part that matters. Belfort says the pivot point of that scale sits in a different place for every person. Some people need almost nothing to say yes. Others can have twelve reasons to buy and one nagging doubt, and the doubt wins.
He calls it your action threshold.
Then the second half. A good salesperson is not only stacking the piles. They are also moving the pivot point itself, temporarily, with specific language patterns, so a careful person becomes an easy one for the length of the call.
He does not teach those patterns here. He says that is separate training, and links the course.
5:57 is the moment worth the click. He puts himself on the easy end of his own scale and says flatly that he buys everything. The man who built the method admits it works on him.
7:07 he puts his father on the opposite end. His father had died the week before. He says it twice, with a may he rest in peace attached both times, and keeps drawing.
You will sit through some call this year where every objection you raise gets handled a little too smoothly. Watch this first and you will feel the pivot point moving while it happens.
A trader wrote a client's name on a bid form. The client had never heard of him. That one line bought him 86 percent of a US Treasury auction.
Congress filmed the man they sent in to clean it up.
Warren Buffett.
September 1991. He had been running Salomon Brothers for three weeks. He did not do any of it. He still had to sit in that room and explain it to a subcommittee with the cameras running.
The method was almost stupid. Write someone else's name on the bid. In one auction the trader submitted three separate bids of 35 percent each. That is 105 percent of an issue that only exists once.
One of the names he used belonged to a firm that had never heard of the trade.
Your gut says a market this size has someone watching it. In 1991 there were no anti manipulation rules for government securities. No surveillance program. No large trader reporting. All of that existed for stocks. None of it existed for the debt of the United States.
48:19 Buffett opens by apologizing before a single question is asked.
50:14 he gives all 8,000 employees one rule: would you want this on the front page of your local paper tomorrow.
50:30 the sentence people still quote. Lose money and he will understand. Lose reputation and he will be ruthless.
1:04:02 a congressman does the arithmetic out loud and calls the number mind blowing.
1:23:04 Buffett walks through the fake bid, step by step, in plain language.
Watch what he does when he does not know something. He stops, says so, and turns to the lawyer sitting behind him. Nobody else in that room does that.
Almost nobody who quotes his famous line has watched the hour where he earned the right to say it.
A trader wrote a client's name on a bid form. The client had never heard of him. That one line bought him 86 percent of a US Treasury auction.
Congress filmed the man they sent in to clean it up.
Warren Buffett.
September 1991. He had been running Salomon Brothers for three weeks. He did not do any of it. He still had to sit in that room and explain it to a subcommittee with the cameras running.
The method was almost stupid. Write someone else's name on the bid. In one auction the trader submitted three separate bids of 35 percent each. That is 105 percent of an issue that only exists once.
One of the names he used belonged to a firm that had never heard of the trade.
Your gut says a market this size has someone watching it. In 1991 there were no anti manipulation rules for government securities. No surveillance program. No large trader reporting. All of that existed for stocks. None of it existed for the debt of the United States.
48:19 Buffett opens by apologizing before a single question is asked.
50:14 he gives all 8,000 employees one rule: would you want this on the front page of your local paper tomorrow.
50:30 the sentence people still quote. Lose money and he will understand. Lose reputation and he will be ruthless.
1:04:02 a congressman does the arithmetic out loud and calls the number mind blowing.
1:23:04 Buffett walks through the fake bid, step by step, in plain language.
Watch what he does when he does not know something. He stops, says so, and turns to the lawyer sitting behind him. Nobody else in that room does that.
Almost nobody who quotes his famous line has watched the hour where he earned the right to say it.
Robert Shiller mailed a letter to the United Kingdom asking a man who published a book in 1939 whether he had invented the forward interest rate. Six months later the answer came back in trembling handwriting.
Lecture eight of Financial Markets at Yale, the 2011 run of the course. Seventy five minutes, free on YouTube for fourteen years.
The claim under the whole hour is small. An interest rate is not a number anyone sets. It is the slope of a line, and someone has to draw the line.
Which makes the lecture a man at a blackboard, drawing the same line until it holds.
7:30. He stops mid sentence and asks the room when the building was built. Nobody answers. He says Irving Fisher died in 1947, that Fisher lectured from this slate, and that what he is about to chalk up is what Fisher had on this board in the 1930s. Then he turns around and puts a dead man's diagram back where it was.
18:36. He asks whether anyone gave him colored chalk. A student answers that there is a little bit of yellow. He takes it, and every line he draws about human impatience from that moment on is yellow on a board that is otherwise white, so the part of the interest rate that comes from psychology is sitting there in a different color than the part that comes from technology.
Watch how rarely he stands behind his own chalk. He apologizes for lines being crooked, erases a full island and restarts it with two men, changes a subscript mid symbol, asks the room for chalk and for the age of the room.
Then in the last twelve minutes he turns that habit on the argument. He asks the room whether the loan between the two men sounded good, agrees that it did, and starts taking it apart with a word he writes in Latin and admits he cannot pronounce.
He never settles it. He says out loud that it is a question, leaves it open, and walks out.
Everything in this hour gets drawn twice, which is why the letter he mailed to England asked a question a man of his standing was supposed to already know the answer to.
Robert Shiller mailed a letter to the United Kingdom asking a man who published a book in 1939 whether he had invented the forward interest rate. Six months later the answer came back in trembling handwriting.
Lecture eight of Financial Markets at Yale, the 2011 run of the course. Seventy five minutes, free on YouTube for fourteen years.
The claim under the whole hour is small. An interest rate is not a number anyone sets. It is the slope of a line, and someone has to draw the line.
Which makes the lecture a man at a blackboard, drawing the same line until it holds.
7:30. He stops mid sentence and asks the room when the building was built. Nobody answers. He says Irving Fisher died in 1947, that Fisher lectured from this slate, and that what he is about to chalk up is what Fisher had on this board in the 1930s. Then he turns around and puts a dead man's diagram back where it was.
18:36. He asks whether anyone gave him colored chalk. A student answers that there is a little bit of yellow. He takes it, and every line he draws about human impatience from that moment on is yellow on a board that is otherwise white, so the part of the interest rate that comes from psychology is sitting there in a different color than the part that comes from technology.
Watch how rarely he stands behind his own chalk. He apologizes for lines being crooked, erases a full island and restarts it with two men, changes a subscript mid symbol, asks the room for chalk and for the age of the room.
Then in the last twelve minutes he turns that habit on the argument. He asks the room whether the loan between the two men sounded good, agrees that it did, and starts taking it apart with a word he writes in Latin and admits he cannot pronounce.
He never settles it. He says out loud that it is a question, leaves it open, and walks out.
Everything in this hour gets drawn twice, which is why the letter he mailed to England asked a question a man of his standing was supposed to already know the answer to.