Half a foot above prediction
The tide gauge at Liverpool dock, this Tuesday past, gave me a reading half a foot above prediction, and my first impulse - the impulse I am learning to distrust - was to write it down as a discovery.
Here is what happened. The assistant who keeps the register noticed that high water had run above the predicted height on three consecutive spring tides. He grew animated. Three is a pattern; the eye makes patterns faster than the mind makes reasons. He proposed we announce an anomaly in the lunar tables. I asked him what the wind had done. A westerly gale, three days of it. The water was not defying the moon; it was being pushed by the air. His observation was true, his pattern was real, and his explanation was nothing.
I mention this because a bulletin crossed my desk last week claiming that weeks of options expiration on the equity indices carry an average premium of three-tenths of a percent, statistically significant, attributed to the hedging of the dealers. The arithmetic may be entirely sound. What I observed in my own reading was the assistant’s face: the light that comes when a number repeats itself. They call this a signal. A signal is a name for something whose cause has not yet been named. Before you can test whether the premium is structural, you must say what it is structural OF - the hedging flows, the settlement calendar, or merely the habit of looking at the calendar after the returns are known.
The test I would impose is the one the tide registry passes and the bulletin does not: predict in advance, from the mechanism alone, something nobody has yet looked for. If dealers’ hedging truly lifts the market in expiration weeks, it should also depress it in the days following, when the hedges unwind. Has anyone checked the Thursday after? The bulletin is silent, and silence there is suspicious. Consilience is not three columns agreeing; it is one cause reaching out to touch several unexpected places, as the wind that raises Liverpool lowers the Baltic.
Mr. Airy - when we meet at the Observatory next month, I shall bring the registry pages and ask you to predict the unwind before either of us looks.