A plain t sitting next to the t squared in a Gaussian exponent looks like a new function and is only a shift. Completing the square turns the integral of e to the minus a t squared over two plus b t, from x to infinity, into e to the b squared over 2a times the root of 2 pi over a times the standard normal at a rescaled and shifted argument, never at x itself. The worked case comes out as exactly half a bell, e root pi over two or 2.40901455, but only because its lower limit happens to land on the centre b over a.
Two stocks each swinging 20 percent a year with a correlation of one half give their product a volatility of 20 root 3, or 34.641 percent, rather than 40. Adding the two numbers is correct at exactly one correlation, namely 1, because the composite volatility is the law of cosines with the correlation as the cosine of the angle between two arrows. Pricing the call at 40 percent overstates it by 14.2 percent and ignoring the correlation understates it by 16.9 percent, and the other diagonal of the same parallelogram prices the ratio of the two stocks.
A futures settles up every day, so its fair price is a plain expectation, while a forward settles once, so its fair price is a discounted expectation renormalised. The difference between the two is exactly the covariance of the discount factor with the contract price divided by the expected discount factor, and for a deposit contract quoted as 100 minus the rate both fall together, so the fair forward price is 95.019999 against the futures' 95.000000. Long the forward and short the futures is worth 0.0195 points at inception, the gap reaches 39.48 basis points at ten years, and on an asset whose price rises with rates the whole answer reverses.
Daily, weekly and monthly returns give per-day variance estimates of 1.0000, 1.3225 and 1.4000, and the reflex is to average them into 1.2408, a figure no horizon produced. The variance ratio is a weighted sum of autocorrelations, so a forty percent overshoot at twenty periods measures dependence rather than noise, and the coefficient that reproduces it is 0.17554. With twenty years of daily data that ratio sits 4.6 standard errors above one and with five years only 2.3, which is why the number means nothing without the sample size attached.
If any order is equally likely to come from any of twenty traders, a buy order puts the posterior at 21/40 and forces an honest ask five cents above a mid of zero, so the spread is 2/N whatever the crowd's size. Each of the nineteen uninformed traders then loses exactly five cents a trade, which sums to the insider's 95 cents because (N-1)/N and 1 - 1/N are the same number. Volume falling is a comparative static on top of that spread rather than a theorem of the model, and naming the insider would have repaired the market instead of breaking it, since a known informed trader can simply be refused.
The sharp statement is stronger than the usual one: on every path, missing the ceiling plus missing the floor counts the paths that miss both exactly twice, so the pair is twice the double plus the value of the one-sided survivors. That is a polynomial identity in indicators, so it holds under every pricing measure with no volatility anywhere, and one half is the tight bound. In a worked instance the pair is 10.317 against a double of 1.494, and the fastest refutation of the trap is that the pair exceeds the plain call with no barriers at all.
Moving the average inside the exponential returns 1, and 1 happens to be the exact median and the exact geometric mean of e^X, which is why the mistake survives every re-check of the arithmetic. Completing the square in the exponent gives the true value e^(sigma squared over two), or 1.6487 at unit spread, because multiplying a Gaussian density by e^x slides its centre and scales its mass. Convexity settles the direction before any integral is set up, and on a heavy-tailed variable the quantity stops being finite at all.
Shade the region between a diffusing particle and the time axis over one second. The box is one wide and about one tall, so the eye guesses a variance of one, and the answer is one third because each increment counts only for the time remaining after it. No stochastic integration is needed to define the object, only continuity of the path, and the constant is pinned twice over: once by the weight (T minus t) and once by integrating the covariance min(s,t) across the square.
A flat belief about a coin's bias is an input to the calculation, not a conclusion of it, and a single head does not leave it standing. The density tilts to 2p, the cumulative law becomes p squared, the average bias moves to 2/3, and the old answer of one half is demoted to the lower quartile. The general update is the Beta conjugate family, which sends 750 heads in 1000 to Beta(751, 251) with mean 0.749501.
Both seats in the marble game average a dollar a play, and that arithmetic stays true to the last line. Seat A carries variance 3/2 against seat B's 1, and seat A's law turns out to be seat B's law with one prize smeared outward, so every concave utility prefers B without variance ever being mentioned. Once both players stop flipping coins, seat B is ahead on the average too, at 1 against 3/4.
Two stocks with equal expected returns, variances 0.10 and 0.40, and correlation 0.5: the reflex differentiates the portfolio variance and reports an interior weight. The minimum sits at 100% in the calmer stock, and the usual explanation for that, which blames the no-shorting rule, is wrong. The vertex of the variance parabola lands exactly on w = 1, so the constraint does no work at all and the answer survives dropping it.
Acceptance restricts the value to below your bid, where a uniform variable averages half of it, and doubling half your bid returns exactly your bid. The expected profit is therefore identically zero at every bid up to 100 and 100 minus b above it, so there is no optimal bid to find. With a general multiplier the profit is b squared times k minus 2, over 200, making doubling the exact break-even multiple, and the article shows a value distribution starting at 50 where the same bidder profits.
Requiring the fifty-fifty at every amount you could open forces the weights to satisfy f(x) = f(x/2)/2, whose only solutions are proportional to 1/x, and that integrates to infinity at both ends. Conditional on the pair, the swap gains the smaller amount or loses it with equal chance, which is zero and needs no assumption at all. The article carries a proper spread where the conditional answer is genuinely x/2, and the infinite-mean spread where swapping really is right at every observable amount.
Going in and winning are different events: the short shot clears two hurdles and wins 0.35 of the time against the long shot's 0.40. The article prices how wrong the reflex is in two currencies, a break-even overtime rate of 4/7 and a break-even make rate of 80 percent at a coin-flip overtime. It also names the objective under which the reflex is right, since the short shot scores 1.40 expected points against 1.20 and still wins fewer games.
Six sevenths in the quieter share beats holding it alone, because what the jumpy share adds at the margin is its correlation times its own swing, fifteen against twenty. The derivative of the variance at a full allocation is exactly +1/50, so the informal test and the first-order condition are one statement. The article carries the exact optimum sqrt(27/700), the convexity making it a minimum, and the correlation threshold of two thirds above which the dip disappears entirely.
A shift leaves every deviation from the mean untouched, and a stretch multiplies the covariance and one standard deviation by the same factor, so both cancel out of the ratio. The tempting answer of five times rho is worse than wrong: at rho = 0.40 it names 2.0, which Cauchy-Schwarz forbids any correlation from reaching. The article carries the general affine rule, the sign flip a negative factor produces, and the curved maps the invariance does not survive.
One chance in sixteen needs fifteen to one to break even, so a ten-to-one ticket is priced as though the calls came right nine times in a hundred rather than six and a quarter. The fair payout doubles and adds one with every leg, which is why multi-leg tickets run away from any quote a seller offers. The article carries the noise that hides the loss, 2.663 of spread against 0.3125 of edge, and the five-point edge per leg that would flip the verdict.
The standard deviation of a sum is not the sum of the standard deviations, so quadrupling the horizon only doubles the risk. The article carries the general square-root law, the ratio that diagnoses the mistake, and the controls showing a bell curve does none of the work: a two-point yearly return lands on 0.20026 and a uniform one on 0.20008. It also carries what actually breaks the rule, which is dependence rather than fat tails.
Both games pay 3.5 million dollars on average, so "they match" is true and the inference that it is a wash is not. Shrinking the ticket by a million divides the spread by a million while adding a million independent rolls multiplies it back by only a thousand, so the ratio of standard deviations is exactly root of a million: 1,707,825 against 1,707.83. The whole argument rests on independence, and at a correlation of 1 the diversified game becomes the single roll exactly.
A fair coin cuts probabilities into halves and quarters, and a short argument about the prime factorisation of two shows it can never reach one third in a bounded number of flips. Dropping the bound fixes it: flip twice, bin the tail-tail, and each child holds exactly a third for 8/3 flips on average. That naive scheme turns out to be the best any coin-flipping procedure can do for three outcomes, which stops being true at five.
The pile really does average exactly one dollar, which is why almost everyone answers one dollar and why the trap is a correct calculation of the wrong quantity. The play is worth two thirds, because the roll that ends the game pays on two of its three faces and that roll is independent of how big the pile grew.
Coins have no memory, which is true, and nobody said this coin is fair, which is the whole problem. A fair coin explains the run with probability two to the minus one hundred while a two-headed coin explains it every time. The article locates the threshold exactly and reconciles the answer with the companion piece on ten heads, which asks a different question about a different setup.
You toss five fair coins, I toss four, and you win on strictly more heads: the answer is exactly 256 of the 512 outcomes. Because you hold one coin more, "not strictly more heads" and "strictly more tails" are the same event, and turning every coin over is a bijection between them. The fifth coin is worth nearly fourteen percentage points over the 93/256 you would have without it, and none of that is an edge.
Que queden dos puertas no significa que sean dos puertas iguales: tu primera elección quedó congelada en 1/3 y los otros 2/3 se acumularon en la única puerta aún cerrada. El número no habla de las puertas, habla del presentador. Deja que abra al azar, que enseñe la misma cabra, y cambiar solo vale 1/2.
Fifty white marbles, fifty black, two jars, and a fair coin choosing which jar gets drawn from. The even split gives exactly one half, and so does every other split where the jars are the same size. Isolating a single white marble reaches 74/99, an exchange argument proves nothing beats it, and three quarters turns out to be a ceiling no arrangement ever touches.
Drop chips at random into dough, cut it into a hundred cookies, and ask how many chips guarantee no bare cookie nine times out of ten. Five hundred chips, five per cookie on average, works about half the time. Inclusion-exclusion pins the answer at 683, a closed form you can solve on a whiteboard agrees, and the coupon collector's mean of 518.7 is the sophisticated wrong answer.
Six slots in a ring, two of them marked side by side. You land on a blank one and get one move: step forward, or draw a fresh slot at random. Both look like two in six. Stepping is one in four, drawing again is one in three, and the whole gap comes from the fact that the two marks are touching. Pull them apart and the advice reverses.
Una enfermedad que tiene una persona de cada doscientas, y una prueba sin ningún falso negativo. La respuesta refleja ante un positivo supera el noventa por ciento, y se equivoca por más de un factor de diez. Una multitud de mil personas lo enseña antes que el álgebra, y Bayes fija la cifra exacta en 100/1493.
Coloca tres puntos al azar en un círculo y el triángulo contiene el centro exactamente una de cada cuatro veces. Dos demostraciones: un promedio honesto y luego dos monedas disfrazadas de geometría.