I don’t want to be called ‘average’. Who does?
The more important question, though, might be “who is?”
We regularly hear references to the average person, the average family, the law of averages, and so on. However, fundamentally, that average entity does not actually exist. Before you worry that I am getting philosophical, or overly Zen in my old age, please tolerate a bit of maths speak.
As we know, there are three types of average: mean, median, and mode (any higher maths aficionados out there, keep schtum if this is not true in your rarified world). The most frequently used to prove a point is the mean (add up the numbers and divide by how many there are), but the one most of us interpret the answer as is the mode, the most common.
If you are told the average age is 35, most of us picture a room full of 35-year-olds, not a small group of teenagers and one octogenarian. When we hear that the “average family will be £2,000 a year worse off”, for example, how does that really help us, since none of us are actually average?
It sounds precise, but it explains very little.
Why am I ranting about this? I have noticed more and more that we are being urged towards the fictitious average, and it would be dangerous to believe the fallacy that good and evil will somehow balance out and, by the law of averages, good things will follow bad.
The ‘law of averages’ is often referred to as the Gambler’s Fallacy, so named because of a specific event in Monte Carlo where the roulette ball landed on black 26 times in a row (you can see where this is going, can’t you). On the next spin, the punters lost millions.
Which brings us from gambling with money to gambling with intelligence.
We are awash with AI today and are repeatedly told that it will return “the average” response. The Law of Large Numbers has proved that a coin flip, repeated over and over, will tend towards a 50/50 split between heads and tails, that is, the theoretical probability.
Therefore, also theoretically, with more data, AI will continue to head, inexorably, towards the average. If you follow that line of reasoning, AI’s impact on business performance should become more and more predictable as it consumes yet more data, though in the interim, it could be all over the shop, to use a technical term.
But AI usage is a different matter.
This will likely follow a power law (unless you are one of those aforementioned higher maths geeks, do not follow up on the formula for this one), which means, in a business sense, that those with greater skill at prompting or agentics will skew the “average” in their favour. The result is not a gradual lift for everyone, but a widening gap between those who know how to use AI well and those who do not.
Firms which embrace and explore AI will undoubtedly reap rewards disproportionate to their peers.
Not really average at all.
I am saying the average person does not exist, and I am not alone in that statement. But maybe the average business really does exist. A bit like a unicorn, living on only in the whimsical minds of those who thought they saw one.
You really have to be smarter than the average bear these days to get even close to stealing that picnic basket, and hoping the ranger does not notice.
