"Let's Make a Deal!"
Jan. 31st, 2003 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kayreYears ago, Marilyn Vos Savant opened a can of worms when she answered a reader’s letter about the old Let’s Make a Deal TV show in her column in Parade Magazine. The question, now known as ”The Monty Hall Problem,” involved the finale of the show, where he would have a contestant choose one of three doors; show them the booby prize behind one of the other two doors; and then give them the chance to keep their original pick, or trade for the remaining door. She responded that the odds were better if you swap for the remaining door.
She was deluged with letters, a few agreeing but most claiming she was dead wrong and stupid to boot-- many from math professors, entire faculties, etc. What bothered me was not one of them said “I/we ran a computer simulation of this and.....” At the time I was a new mom, playing with my first computer (a Commodore 64, bought used for $75). I was about half way through a book on BASIC programming, and I thought to myself, “Heck, even I could write a simulation of this!”
As the flap continued, I really did tackle it, and wrote not one but two working simulations (one entirely computer-driven, one interactive). (They showed, incidentally, that Vos Savant was right.) I was a beta-tester for LoadStar, a disk magazine for C64s; so, just for fun, I followed their tips on putting finishing touches on a program, and submitted the results to them, along with a long explanation of both the problem and the programming process.
They accepted it. The editor told me later that he’d gone over my code a hundred times, certain that there must be a mistake, because he was so sure Vos Savant’s answer was wrong. He changed only two lines of code, and added a paragraph or two to my explanations, and published them both, and PAID me.
That whole process changed the way I thought about myself. No, I didn’t go on to become a math genius, or a programming prodigy.... but I did realize I had done something that a bunch of geniuses hadn’t even bothered to do, and had proved them wrong in the process. I resumed organ study within a few months, and started subbing a few months after that; and I decided to go back to school once hubby finished his master’s degree. I spent several years toying with different possibilities for grad school, and ultimately entered seminary a year after he finished.
I wrote a letter to Marilyn, thanking her for the inspiration, and got a nice note back. She has written a book in which she discusses the whole Monty Hall episode.. but I found it at the library, and read the relevant pages, and I’m not in it. Rats!
This all came to mind this week because my daughter’s math textbook has an enrichment activity on the Monty Hall problem. I told her about my program, and we set up the old Commie, and found the old disks-- she is pretty proud of her mom! There are a bunch of simulations of this problem on the web now-- but I really think my two are the most elegant I’ve seen.
She was deluged with letters, a few agreeing but most claiming she was dead wrong and stupid to boot-- many from math professors, entire faculties, etc. What bothered me was not one of them said “I/we ran a computer simulation of this and.....” At the time I was a new mom, playing with my first computer (a Commodore 64, bought used for $75). I was about half way through a book on BASIC programming, and I thought to myself, “Heck, even I could write a simulation of this!”
As the flap continued, I really did tackle it, and wrote not one but two working simulations (one entirely computer-driven, one interactive). (They showed, incidentally, that Vos Savant was right.) I was a beta-tester for LoadStar, a disk magazine for C64s; so, just for fun, I followed their tips on putting finishing touches on a program, and submitted the results to them, along with a long explanation of both the problem and the programming process.
They accepted it. The editor told me later that he’d gone over my code a hundred times, certain that there must be a mistake, because he was so sure Vos Savant’s answer was wrong. He changed only two lines of code, and added a paragraph or two to my explanations, and published them both, and PAID me.
That whole process changed the way I thought about myself. No, I didn’t go on to become a math genius, or a programming prodigy.... but I did realize I had done something that a bunch of geniuses hadn’t even bothered to do, and had proved them wrong in the process. I resumed organ study within a few months, and started subbing a few months after that; and I decided to go back to school once hubby finished his master’s degree. I spent several years toying with different possibilities for grad school, and ultimately entered seminary a year after he finished.
I wrote a letter to Marilyn, thanking her for the inspiration, and got a nice note back. She has written a book in which she discusses the whole Monty Hall episode.. but I found it at the library, and read the relevant pages, and I’m not in it. Rats!
This all came to mind this week because my daughter’s math textbook has an enrichment activity on the Monty Hall problem. I told her about my program, and we set up the old Commie, and found the old disks-- she is pretty proud of her mom! There are a bunch of simulations of this problem on the web now-- but I really think my two are the most elegant I’ve seen.
