What on earth is the 'Sunk Costs Fallacy'?

Don't you just love it when something you didn't know had a name... has a name?

I've been reading an intriguing book called Think Like a Freak: Secrets of the Rogue Economist from those Superfreakonomics chaps and of the many interesting points I picked up, the one that pleased me most was finding out about the 'sunk cost fallacy'. Sunk costs are the amount of time, energy and resources you have invested in an enterprise. The danger, or the fallacy, is that because you have spent these costs you must continue even if you are flogging a dead horse* by doing so. You don't want to end up losing all that money and effort over nothing, do you? 

Good examples of this are ordering too much food and feeling you have to eat it to 'get your money's worth' or keeping things you don't want or need because they were expensive.

I, and a small circle of friends, have been referring to this as 'the queue at the Blue John Mines' after a 1990's bank holiday trip spent in a long line whilst disputing whether to stay because we'd already invested hours in the trip or abandon the whole idea and recoup what was left of the day. The trouble with 'the queue at the Blue John Mines' is that it means nothing to everyone else in the world. (They weren't even mines, it turns out, but a cavern, but we didn't wait to find out as it happens.)

The other things in the book that really struck me include: the importance of admitting you don't know, defining the problem properly before trying to solve it, and the importance of premortems - imagining your plans going wrong and asking what would have been most likely to cause it. Also - and this is where the sunk costs fallacy comes in - the importance of quitting before you waste more time and energy going down a wrong path. 

There's a much longer piece about the sunk cost fallacy on You're Not so Smart... we all do it all the time!

* No dead horses were hurt in the making of this blog

Sorted!

A very satisfying part of my job is sorting the books back into order that YOU the general public have just shoved back in any old place.

Fiction should be in author order, but we also split it by genre and quick read displays are in no order at all, making it difficult to find specific books - it would almost be easier to sort them in colour order. Not all authors fit neatly into one genre: Charlaine Harris pops up in Horror, Supernatural Fantasy and Crime, for example and China Mieville is all over the place. I'm not entirely sure which shelf my putative best-selling novel will eventually end up on.

So the precision of the Dewey decimal system is very welcome in non-fiction. That doesn't always mean you can find exactly what a borrower wants: if someone wants a picture of a unicorn you’ll be all over the place - in mythical creatures, nursery rhymes, fantasy art, and end up in heraldry.

Now I've got the gist of the system the world feels more organised, but I still worry about stuff: in the health section: the back ache books are on the highest shelf, osteoporosis on the lowest, yet the yoga ones are perfectly easy to reach – when it should those you have to stretch for. The dementia books have been abandoned on a nearby table but at least the books on OCD are returned to the shelf in perfect order.

In the children’s library they have whole sections on volcanoes and dinosaurs, and at least half of the books are something to do with underpants (*sniggers*).  One day one of these little cherubs will be all grown up and sitting behind a big desk saying: "That library assistant changed my life. She encouraged me to read and that’s what got me where I am today: Professor of Underpants."

Fifty Shades

I don't own a Kindle and, as a library assistant, will defend to the death books made out of real paper, but I did download the Kindle app so I could read eBooks by blog chums Fran and Frances.

So if I happened to buy the eBook Fifty Shades of Grey just to see what the fuss is about, at least no-one will know! Of course it's not great - it needed an editor, if only to cut out the numerous times our heroine says 'Holy crap!' - but I'll plow on for the sake of  'research' and of course I can't 'flog it' later on Amazon - a downside of Kindle I hadn't thought of!

And don't say I could have just borrowed it from the library... the waiting list is lengthier than Mr Grey's schlong and every day more furtive-looking women come in and whisper: 'I don't suppose you have...?'

If you want a flavour of the book before you 'submit' to reading it, there's a hilarious critique of the book on Cassandra Parkin's blog and I have a related idea of my own, which I'm sure you're 'gagging' to hear about... but I'm going to make you wait.

p.s. I'm about a third of the way through now, so I may be a little 'tied up' for the next few days, and have to keep you in suspense...


From my iPad

Burning the books

I was reading Ray Bradbury's obituary yesterday when I came across this fascinating fact:

His classic novel on a dystopian future 'Farenheit 451' was written in a library. Specifically UCLS's Powell Library in 1953. Their own obituary in the UCLA Magazine includes a video on him writing the book.

In the days before public access computers, the library had coin-operated type-writers and he bashed out this sci-fi masterpiece in just nine days at a total cost of less than ten dollars.*

So there he was tippety tappety spelling out the destruction of the world's books whilst surrounded by them:

"Imagine what it was like to be writing a book about book burning and doing it in a library where the passions of all those authors, living and dead, surrounded me."

Ray Bradbury 2002

Worryingly, I just found this quote on the intriguing literary blog Page Pulp:

“To learn to read is to light a fire; every syllable that is spelled out is a spark.”

Victor Hugo 

This raises several questions:

1. What would Bradbury - a famous techno-phobe who wouldn't use a lift and thought electric toothbrushes were the work of the devil - make of his books being available as eBooks now?
2. Are there any other books written from the point of view of a fireman?
3. What are my library users up to and should I be watching them more carefully?

* One of the things I love about writing is that it's a really cheap hobby. So much less costly than wind surfing, collecting Steiff bears, or playing the harp.

On Writing

Four things that happened last week have got me back into finishing my novel.

1.
Having been accepted for Flashmob - one of Lancaster Litfest's publications I was invited to a professional development workshop for writers, which reminded me what my own priorities are, helped me set goals and reinvigorated me.

2.
Before going there, I re-read the 60,000 words I've written so far of my novel (untouched for months) to see if it was worth pursuing. It was funny (it's ok, it's supposed to be) and readable and I got excited about it again.

3.
Then, on the train to Lancaster I finished Stephen King's 'On Writing' - a book that is often highly recommended to writers by other writers.

It's a curiosity - part interesting autobiography, part no frills 'how to write' guide from someone who's work I find very readable. Like many writing manuals, the author has strong ideas on the best way to produce a novel, things you must or mustn't do. Fine if it works for him, but it's best to take from writing guides the advice you recognise as appropriate for your own way of working. Some great common sense hints and tips.

Key tips:

1. Write
   
2. Read
3. Assiduously avoid adverbs.
   

These first two are pretty obvious but plenty of 'writers' don't do that much of either - I've been guilty myself.

4.
And fourthly, I've been reading Elmore Leonard's 'When The Women Come Out To Dance' - an inpsiring masterclass in short fiction packed with sparely-written mini dramas, fascinating characters, evocative locations. (Elmore Leonard's top tips - which also have it in for adverbs - are at the top of this excellent Guardian list of Top Tips from Authors)

So that's what I'm doing when I'm not doing this.

Softback, Hard Shoulder - The Mobile Library

What will the coming year bring for libraries? I've always had a tingly feel about mobile libraries so I'm quite prepared, in these austere times, if we can't afford buildings any more, to take to a life on the open road - a sort of Loan Ranger.

The mobile library, or Bookmobile, has been around for a long time and there were still 656 in Britain at last count.

Pictured is America's first mobile library in 1905 in the hands of one 'Mr. Thomas the janitor both holding the reins and dispensing the books.

No better method has ever been devised for reaching the dweller in the country. The book goes to the man, not waiting for the man to come to the book. Psychologically too the wagon is the thing. As well try to resist the pack of a peddler from the Orient as the shelf full of books when the doors of the wagon are opened by Miss Chrissinger at one’s gateway.'

The UK's first was in Warrington, 1859 (pictured).

But all of this is rather tame considering how books get around in other countries. Why stop at a van after all?

There's the Epos library ship plying the coast of Norway, Ethiopia's Donkey Mobile Library, Kenya's Camel Bookmobile and... with simply the best name for this kind - or any kind - of enterprise, Colombia's Biblioburro

Related posts:

• Why are there so many songs about librarians?
  
• Libraries that LOOK like books
  
• La Senza and Sensibility - sponsor a book!
  
• My great idea for FREE Christmas pressies
  

To buy:

The Mobile Library - The Case of the Missing Books - By Ian Sansom

Main picture source: Moormann

Presents with no future

I've thought of a brilliant idea for giving someone an amazing FREE Christmas Present - but all I get is abuse when I mention it. It depends how you look at it - cheapskate pressie from tight-fisted weirdo or  sustainable gift that saves the earth's valuable resources? You decide!

First you 'borrow' (ok steal) the library card of your loved one / sidekick / awkward relative (henceforth know as 'the recipient')  - or you could use your own. Then you go to the biggest library near you and use the card to borrow (this time I don't mean steal) as many of the most gorgeous, newest 'coffee table' books as the ticket allows (eg in Wirral you can get 16 books out on a card!) 

You know the kind I mean - the ones the size of coffee tables, full of mouthwatering photographs or ephemeral nonsense. Books about art, travel, confectionery, puppies, gardens, Star Wars, steam trains, latex... whatever your recipient's 'special' interests may be. Books that lift the heart for a moment but cost £40 in the shops and no matter how beautiful they are, you couldn't justify buying them, and if you did they would barely be looked at after the initial flurry of excitement.

So on Christmas Day your recipient gets a big pile of wonderful books* to browse through over the holidays - to entertain guests, provoke conversations or merely to provide alternative surfaces to put your nuts on! Then when your recipient tires of them you just pop them back to the library. Job done! 

You haven't broke the bank, the author gets a cut through the Public Lending Right, your library is supported and your recipient is touched by the gesture and the effort you put into choosing the best books! 

After all - it's the thought that counts, isn't it? What do you think?

* This probably only works with books. It would be unreasonable to buy someone, say a box of choccies just to look at and then take back to the shop in January. I'm not that cheap!

Other posts about books:       Top 10 Books for Writers         The dog ate my library book

But first, a message from our sponsors...

There's been concern in library circles since Minister Ed Vaizey published the Future Libraries Programme to "help the service during the challenging financial situation" by suggesting libraries be privatised, or run by voluntary groups or retailers.

Why stop there? Retailers could help spread the hideous cost of reading by more targeted sponsorship of books. 

I've already started approaching local stores and can announce that the following are now available on loan:

Tesco of d'Urbervilles

The Mayor of Asdabridge

Boots the Alchemist

Alice’s Adventures in Poundland

Animal Farmfoods

Bleak House of Fraser

Brave New World of Carpet

Abacan – His Dark Materials

La Senza and Sensibility

MorriSons and Lovers

Lidl House on the Prairie

Aldi Presidents Men

I'm sure you, dear readers, will have your own ideas of other retailers who may be encouraged to support our beleaguered libraries by sponsoring a book...? 

The dog ate my library book

Would you believe some friends of mine never darken the doorstep of their local library? 

'I love the smell of new books," says Bambi*. "That's why I never go to libraries."

It's a common misconception that library books are as  tattered, torn as a tart's tights. Not true! Here in Wirralia we get new books in all the time - and those that stagger back to us having fallen foul of the rougher type of borrower are resuscitated using special, librarian CPR:

• Cleaning
• Pritt stick
• Re-labelling

A lady brought a book back the other day which had been savaged by a puppy. Strangely, she wasn't the same lady who has a note on her account when you scan her card saying: 'Check books for teeth marks'.

(Did I mention? Vampire books are almost as popular as serial killer books in Wirralia.)

I've written before about some of the fates that can befall the written word.  Old library lags tell of books being returned having shared bags with fish or dirty nappies. And a good blockbuster makes an amusing coaster for your drinks, don't you think?  Or a goal for an impromptu game of football? Or a plate?

We do our best to keep things clean. But are pristine books what we should be striving for? Does that not imply they have never been read? At home, I'm forever buying books and then not reading them - I've had books for thirty years and never opened the covers. 

I'm reading Best of Myles just now - an anthology of Flann O'Brien's early columns in the Irish Times under the pseudonym Myles na Gopaleen. He suggested a solution to books looking unread: "Why should a wealthy person...be put to the trouble of reading at all? Why not a professional book-handler to go in and suitably maul his library for so-much a shelf?"

He proposed a graduated scale from 'popular' ("four leaves of each to be dog-eared, and a tram ticket, cloak room docket or comparable article inserted in each as a forgotten bookmark. Say £2 17s 6d. Five per cent discount for civil servants") to 'Le Traitment Superb' which involved passages underlined in good quality red ink, notes in margins ("Yes, but cf Homer, Od., iii, 151") and forged inscriptions from the author: "From your devoted friend and follower, K. Marx")

I can't help wondering if some of our borrowers may have employed similar services. Perhaps they think we'll look down our noses if we think they haven't thoroughly read  the books they borrowed?

But dogs?  As Myles points out: "Novice handlers, not realising that tooth-marks on the cover of a book are not accepted as evidence that its owner has read it, have been known to train terriers..."

What do YOU think?

Do you only really love a book that is still unsullied by human hand/eye/other parts of the anatomy?  Do you want to know others have enjoyed it or is a desirable slim volume dead to you once its spine has been bent, it's corners fondled, and there is herbage growing out of it? 

Related posts: Don't touch the sticky books.

* Names have been changed, but this friend was once described by another as 'like Bambi on ice' which immediately became one of my favourite similes.

A Ladybird Book Changed My Life

"Books can be dangerous.  The best ones should be labeled: 'This could change your life.'"  - Helen Exley

Did a book you read when you were young ever send you in an unlikely direction?

When I was about seven or eight I had amongst my Ladybird books a couple of slim volumes from their 'Travel Adventure' series. I think the central premise was a businessman father who took his children on some of his business trips. 

I don't know why it attracted me so much, but there was one picture in 'Flight Six - The Holy Land' that stuck in mind so strongly I can still see it. The travellers visited a kibbutz and the picture was of pretty young women wearing dirndl skirts and picking oranges. The sun shone and everybody was smiling. My imagination was seized.

So when, years later, I finally escaped from A High Street Bank, where else was I going to head? It probably would never have happened if I hadn't read the book. I wouldn't have known what a kibbutz was and it would have sounded much dodgier (this was 1990 - just before Saddam Hussein started lobbing missiles at Israel to retaliate for the first Desert Storm) if I hadn't had this mental image of sun, oranges and, yes, dirndl skirts.

I think this photo of me must have been taken at more or less the same spot as the illustration on the cover. It's the southern end of the Sea of Galilee with Jordan in the distance. No dirndl skirt or sheep, but you have to admit they're pretty whacky shorts. 

It certainly was an adventure - the rest of my which, I'll save for another time.

What books have changed your life?

"How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book." - Harold Bloom