Correlation Is Causation if You Believe Hard Enough
Every time I write a column, it gets dark outside. I rest my case.
Science insists correlation does not equal causation. That’s a cowardly excuse from statisticians. Every time I sit down to type on this keyboard, the sun eventually goes down. The proof is right there. So I am clearly causing the night to happen.
Academics refuse to accept this. They point to astronomical models. They mention the horizon. But I spilled lukewarm chamomile tea on my trousers last Tuesday. It rained exactly three days later. The connection is obvious to anyone willing to ignore basic science.
Others have replicated these results. Professor Barnaby Squint at the Institute for Jumping to Conclusions recently noticed a pattern. Whenever he buys a new pair of brown socks, the office printer jams. He refused the weak argument that the machine is simply old. He deduced his footwear choices exert a powerful electromagnetic interference on the paper tray and immediately threw out every pair of socks he owned just to be safe. He switched exclusively to sandals. And the printer now only jams every other day. His theory is completely proven.
“If you wash your car and the heavens immediately open, you are a rain god.”
Squint’s work exposes the flaw in modern logic. It requires waiting around for evidence. I observe that wearing my green cardigan makes my toast pop up perfectly golden brown. Why would I run a trial? The toast is the evidence. I forgot to wear it on a Thursday last month. The bread stayed stubbornly pale until I pressed the lever down a second time and burned it to a crisp, which just goes to show. That was a clear retaliatory strike by the universe.
The universe reacts to knitwear, and it reacts to you. We must reclaim our power from tedious methodology. You wash your hatchback and the heavens immediately open. You’re a rain god. Accept the burden. Then you cancel a broadband subscription and receive a coupon for that exact service in the post two days later. You bent corporate policy to your will. We are walking reality warpers shaping the world through completely unrelated coincidences.
National statistics prove this on a macro level. Look at umbrella sales and damp footwear. The data shows buying an umbrella actively attracts water from the sky directly toward your feet. The weather bureau wants you to think rain causes both the purchase and the dampness. I have never seen a cloud walk into a shop holding a ten pound note. Umbrellas summon the moisture. It’s a vast conspiracy of waterproof nylon.
The nylon lobby will deny this, so look at your own life instead. Find the connections you’ve been too afraid to see. Your habit of whistling in the shower is probably the only thing keeping the local duck population from organizing a rebellion. Maybe the global economy is only holding together because you refuse to eat the crust of a loaf. Don’t let skeptics tell you otherwise.
We all have our planetary duties. As I type these final words, shadows are lengthening across my lawn. The streetlamps on the corner are flickering on. Once again my typing has commanded the solar system to rotate. It is a heavy responsibility to keep the day and night cycle running smoothly from a desk chair. But somebody has to do it.