Epidemiology: Everything Turns on One Number Crossing One
If each case produces more than one further case, an outbreak grows; below one, it fades. That threshold is simple — and almost everything else about the subject is context-dependent.
If each case produces more than one further case, an outbreak grows; below one, it fades. That threshold is simple — and almost everything else about the subject is context-dependent.
One die is flat. Ten dice added together make a bell curve. The shape is a property of adding independent things — which tells you exactly when to expect it and when not to.
Seven heads in ten flips is unremarkable; seventy thousand in a hundred thousand would be extraordinary. The same probability, different room for chance — with consequences most people miss.
A treatment beats its rival for small stones, beats it for large stones, and loses when you combine the patients. Nothing was miscalculated — which is what makes it worth understanding.
The interventions with the largest effects have been known for decades and are unglamorous. Attention flows almost inversely to effect size, for a simple reason — the big ones cannot be sold.
The quiet, bookish stranger sounds like a librarian. There are a hundred times more salespeople — so the shy ones alone outnumber every librarian in the country.
A rare disease, a 99% accurate test, a positive result — and roughly a 9% chance you're ill. The gap comes from one number most people leave out entirely.
Species that have survived for ten million years go extinct at about the same rate as new ones. That surprising fact explains why your improvements so often buy you nothing.