I won the UK National Lottery jackpot as part of a syndicate. Two years later, I won it again on my own.
The wins have had two effects on how I evaluate odds: first, so-called 'remote' probabilities I once found reassuring – the odds of being hit by lightning in your lifetime is 1 in 10,000 or the chances of being killed in a train crash are 1 in 500,000 – no longer have a calming effect. This can make me both nervous and acutely risk-aware. Some people call this introverted.
Second, the converse has also become true: so-called 'impossible' odds – the chance of winning the National Lottery jackpot three times, for example – no longer deter me from participating. This can make me both irrational and actively risk-seeking. Some people call this extroverted.
Regardless of this dichotomy, the OP's point of view rings true for me: the decision to play the lottery lies in entertainment value alone. It is unlikely that I will win again. But it is hard to resist the questions hammered out in lottery marketing campaigns. The ones designed to undermine rational resistance to extraordinary odds: "What would you do if you did win?" or, more bluntly, "How would you spend it?"
It is harder still to resist simple cost-benefit analysis, which leaves the same question I've had since the beginning: is dreaming worth the cost of entry? My answer is always the same:
The wins have had two effects on how I evaluate odds: first, so-called 'remote' probabilities I once found reassuring – the odds of being hit by lightning in your lifetime is 1 in 10,000 or the chances of being killed in a train crash are 1 in 500,000 – no longer have a calming effect. This can make me both nervous and acutely risk-aware. Some people call this introverted.
Second, the converse has also become true: so-called 'impossible' odds – the chance of winning the National Lottery jackpot three times, for example – no longer deter me from participating. This can make me both irrational and actively risk-seeking. Some people call this extroverted.
Regardless of this dichotomy, the OP's point of view rings true for me: the decision to play the lottery lies in entertainment value alone. It is unlikely that I will win again. But it is hard to resist the questions hammered out in lottery marketing campaigns. The ones designed to undermine rational resistance to extraordinary odds: "What would you do if you did win?" or, more bluntly, "How would you spend it?"
It is harder still to resist simple cost-benefit analysis, which leaves the same question I've had since the beginning: is dreaming worth the cost of entry? My answer is always the same:
You bet it is.