An intro to a statistical bias that makes its brutal presence felt by means of a whole absence of knowledge
On a grey November night, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt settled in entrance of the radio at Springwood, some 300 miles northeast of the White Home.
Nestled inside the rolling wooded hills on the east financial institution of the Hudson, Springwood was Franklin Roosevelt’s lifelong dwelling. It was the middle of the world for the President. A spot of familiarity and luxury that he returned to time and time once more all through the twelve years of his era-defining presidency.¹
On that November night, Roosevelt and his household had planted themselves in entrance of the radio for a particular motive.
It was the night of November 3, 1936.