The Prediction Test

The two most famous theories in the field of forecasting are the butterfly effect, and the efficient market hypothesis. Both are theories, not of prediction, but of non-prediction.

The butterfly effect was developed by MIT meteorologist and chaos theorist Ed Lorenz in the 1960s. He found that computer simulations of a toy weather model tended to stray apart over time if the starting point was changed by even a tiny amount (chaos!). He proposed that this “sensitivity to initial condition” was a property, not just of his three-equation model, but of the weather itself. When he submitted an untitled talk for the 1972 conference of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, the person hosting the session supplied a provocative title: “Predictability; Does the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wings in Brazil Set Off a Tornado in Texas?”

The efficient market hypothesis was first proposed in a 1970 PhD thesis by Eugene Fama, from the University of Chicago. It says that price changes in financial markets are caused by random perturbations (e.g. news) and therefore follow a “random walk” which is inherently unpredictable.

Apart from fame, the theories have many other things in common. They both provide a scientific reason for forecast errors, such as the financial crisis. They both assume that forecast error is due to random effects (insects or news). Both theories – or at least their typical applications – assume that the underlying model of the system is correct. And they are both used to justify complicated techniques that are hard to interpret or falsify.

In the 1990s weather forecasters seized on the butterfly effect as an excuse for forecast error, but also as a rationale for elaborate “ensemble forecasting” schemes. Instead of making a single “point” forecast, an ensemble of forecasts is here generated from a set of perturbed initial conditions, and used to produce a statistical forecast that takes into account the effects of chaos. When forecasters made typical perturbations of the sort that might be produced by observational error, they found that the simulations didn’t diverge as quickly as expected, which was possibly a hint; however they soon found ways to select specially optimised perturbations which did exhibit the desired divergent behaviour.

The efficient market hypothesis meanwhile might have shown that price changes were unpredictable, but also enabled the use of statistical models which claimed to predict the probability of a price change, such as the Value at Risk model. In either case of course the statistical forecast is only valid if the underlying model of the system is correct.

Both theories are hard to disprove, and remarkably resilient to criticism. When I (David) showed in a 1999 presentation at the European Centre for Medium-Range Weather Forecasts that plots of forecast error show a square-root shape, which is characteristic not of chaos but of model error, I was contradicted by a number of people in the audience. The next day I received an email from one of the top research heads, which said that he had checked a plot of forecast errors, and, in stark contrast to my talk, “they certainly show positive curvature.” In other words, they were caused by chaos, not model error. We therefore decided that someone there should try to reproduce my results, by plotting the errors as a function of time.

When the results showed a near-perfect square-root shape, I received an email saying that “I guess it would be possible to get an initially square root shape from initial condition error if the error was initially in very very small scales which rapidly saturates but cascades up  to produce errors of larger scale, which then saturate, but cascade up to produce errors of still larger scale.” (That was the exact point when my view of science began to shift.)

Similarly, as Andrew W. Lo and A. Craig MacKinlay wrote in their book A Non-Random Walk Down Wall Street: “One of the most common reactions to our early research was surprise and disbelief. Indeed, when we first presented our rejection of the Random Walk Hypothesis at an academic conference in 1986, our discussant – a distinguished economist and senior member of the profession – asserted with great confidence that we had made a programming error, for if our results were correct, this would imply tremendous profit opportunities in the stock market. Being too timid (and too junior) at the time, we responded weakly that our programming was quite solid thank you, and the ensuing debate quickly degenerated thereafter. Fortunately, others were able to replicate our findings exactly.”

Needless to say, both the butterfly effect and efficient market theory survived these and other challenges.

Finally, both theories rely on a kind of magical thinking – that the atmosphere is incredibly sensitive to the smallest change, so perturbations grow exponentially instead of just dissipating (try waving your hand in front of your face to see which is more physically realistic); or that the economy is magically self-correcting, like a door which snaps instantly shut after being opened.

One difference is that the butterfly effect does double duty in other areas such as economics. As then-Fed chairman Ben Bernanke explained in 2009, “a small cause – the flapping of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil – might conceivably have a disproportionately large effect – a typhoon in the Pacific” which was a useful thing to bring up after you just failed to predict the US housing crisis. However, the idea that unpredictability is caused by efficiency has failed to catch on outside of economics. For example, no one thinks that snow storms that come out of nowhere are efficient.

So why are these theories both still around? The reason is simple. As the physicist Richard Feynman once said, “The test of science is its ability to predict.” The magic of science is the ability to make it look like you can predict.

Simplify!

The following may or may not be factually accurate. It all happened a long time ago. But it is absolutely 100% correct in spirit.

Twenty or so years ago I was browsing through the library of Imperial College, London, when I happened upon a book called something like The Treasury’s Model of the UK Economy. It was about one inch thick and full of difference equations. Seven hundred and seventy of them, one for each of 770 incredibly important economic variables. There was an equation for the rate of inflation, one for the dollar-sterling exchange rate, others for each of the short-term and long-term interest rates, there was the price of fish, etc. etc. (The last one I made up. I hope.) Could that be a good model with reliable forecasts?

[Hint: How good are economic forecasts generally?]

Consider how many parameters must be needed in such a model, every one impossible to measure accurately, every one unstable. I can’t remember whether these were linear or non-linear difference equations, but every undergrad mathematician knows that you can get chaos with a single non-linear difference equation so think of the output you might get from 770.

Putting myself in the mind of the Treasury economists I think “Hmm, maybe the results of the model are so bad that we need an extra variable. Yes, that’s it, if we can find the 771st equation then the model will finally be perfect.”

No, gentlemen of the Treasury, that is not right. What you want to do is throw away all but the half dozen most important equations and then accept the inevitable, that the results won’t be perfect.

A short distance away on the same shelf was the model of the Venezuelan economy. This was a much thinner book with a mere 160 equations. Again I can imagine the Venezuelan economists saying to each other, “Amigos, one day we too will have as many equations as those British cabrones, no?” No, what you want to do is strip down the 160 equations you’ve got to the most important. In Venezuela maybe it’s just a few equations, for the price of oil, inflation, and maybe how much it costs to buy a politician.

We don’t need more complex economics models. Nor do we need that fourteenth stochastic variable in finance. We need simplicity and robustness. We need to accept that the models of human behaviour will never be perfect. We need to accept all that, and then build in a nice safety margin in our forecasts, prices and measures of risk.

Perspective

I love watching Dragons’ Den, the programme in which entrepreneurs try to get established business people to invest in their ideas. I love trying to predict which Dragon will say what, how they will negotiate a deal, how they compete with each other to make themselves look good against other Dragons. I love shouting at the TV, “What about patents and intellectual property?” before the Dragons. And I particularly love it when they so obviously get it wrong. Trunki? Come on, just because a bit of plastic broke on a prototype you aren’t going to invest in such an obvious hit? And I find it reassuring when they break all their own rules to invest in something they get emotionally attached to. E.g. Reggae Reggae Sauce. Although I’m sure it is deliciously invigorating many of the facts and figures that the entrepreneur gave turned out to be wrong, many of them during the programme itself.

But I hate it when an entrepreneur gets flummoxed by a Dragon negotiating for a better deal. An entrepreneur will open with offering 10% in return for a certain investment. A Dragon might find this too little and counter with 20%. At which point the entrepreneur shakes his or head and declines.

What are they thinking?

It looks to me like they are thinking from the perspective of the Dragon. I’m going to double his money? Double! No way!

But this is completely the wrong way to look at this. They should look at it from their own perspective initially. So I’m going down from 90% to 80%. No biggie. And then they can put themselves in the shoes of the Dragon. Ok, I can see that doubling the shareholding might double the help the Dragon will give. Which will make that 11.11% reduction in their shareholding (10/90) look pretty insignificant.

Rule #1 Of Investing: Don’t Obey Rule #1

One of the first lessons in any course on investing will be about portfolio construction and the benefits of diversification, how to maximize expected return for a given level of risk. If assets are not correlated then as you add more and more of them to your portfolio you can maintain a decent expected return and reduce your risk. Colloquially, we say don’t put all your eggs into one basket.

Of course, that’s only theory. In practice there are many reasons why things don’t work out so nicely. Often that’s because stocks and other investments stubbornly refuse to do what they are told.

But can it ever be optimal to not even try to diversify? Should you ever do the exact opposite of Rule #1? You betcha.

As we’ll see people in banks and hedge funds are encouraged to not diversify, to instead concentrate risk. I don’t know whether this is explicit or instinctive.

Imagine the following scenario. It’s your first day as a trader at an investment bank. You’ve had a world-class university education in economics in, say, Chicago. There you learned about all kinds of theoretically marvellous trades and how to manage risk by diversifying.

You are being introduced to the rest of the trading team. You notice that all of the trades they are doing are strangely similar. It worries you a bit because it doesn’t look like they are diversifying much.

You are then shown your desk, with multiple screens, and told to start trading.

Being a decent person you naturally want to do the best for your bank and so you seek out some trades that are uncorrelated to those of your colleagues but which also have a high probability of success.

Let’s put some numbers to this. There are dozens of other traders all making the same trade, and this trade has a 50:50 chance of making or losing a large amount. You have a better, and independent, trade that has a 75% chance of doubling your money and 25% of losing it all.

What happens next?

There’s a 50% chance that all the other traders lose a vast amount of money. This is not great. They might lose their jobs. The bank might go under.

But there’s also a 50% chance that they’ll be heroes, and rewarded as such in bonuses.

Meanwhile your trade might make some money. More likely than the other traders, at 75%. So you are more likely to be a hero too. No! If the others lose and you win then you are too tiny to even be noticed. You won’t be able to save the bank. And certainly don’t expect a bonus.

You can see this in the following table. If the other traders lose then everyone is fired including you. You can only get a bonus if the traders and you both win, and that has a probability of 0.75 x 0.5 = 37.5%.

  Traders win (50%) Traders Lose (50%)
You win (75%) Bonuses all around!!! (37.5%) All fired!!! (37.5%)
You lose (25%) You are fired, other traders get bonuses (12.5%) All fired!!! (12.5%)

No, the only way to get that bonus is to cling to the coattails of the other traders. Do the same trade as them and you have a larger 50% chance of that bonus.

Lose money when all around are making it, you’re fired. Make money when all around are losing it? Expect a big bonus? No way! Your profits will help to bail everyone else out and no one gets a bonus, even you. No, you should do the same as everyone else.

As Keynes said, “It is better to fail conventionally than to succeed unconventionally.”