Luck seems to have three properties:
- It can be good or bad, but doesn’t seem to be neutral.
- It is the result of chance (although this one seems to be more modern)
- It can be applied to a sentient being (does that make my lucky rock sentient? Well no, that makes it more of a luck amulet.)
And it can be understood in a few different ways:
- Lack of control – this will be discussed with Nagel.
- As a probability – this is the rationalistic approach, it is mere chance. Nothing special.
- As an essence – this includes spiritual and supernatural interpretations.
- As a self-fulfilling prophecy
First, let’s look at the low-hanging fruit: self-fulfilling prophecy. The psychologist Richard Wiseman is a proponent of this sort of luck. He says that people can easily increase their luck. Lucky people use four main principles to create good fortune:
- Maximize chance opportunities – they create, notice, and act on chance opportunities via networking and new experiences
- Listening to lucky hunches – they make effective decisions by listening to their gut feelings
- Expect good fortune – lucky people are certain that the future is going to be full of good fortune. These expectations become self-fulfilling prophecies
- Turn bad luck to good – they use psychological techniques to cope and thrive on ill fortune.
This sounds like something you might hear in business school or from a overly positive thinker. How to become more lucky? Be extroverted. Don’t be introverted. Well there goes half the population’s luck. Listen to lucky hunches. That rules out anyone with anxiety, OCD, or the like. Expect good fortune! That rules out any depressed person. Turn bad luck to good! That rules me out. I turn good luck bad! Oh wait, now I’m violating the third principle. I can see how this might make someone “luckier” but only in a specific sense. This is simply increasing some sense of control over one’s life or the opportunities that one is exposed to. But what about the things we can’t control?
What about luck as a lack of control or as a probability? Luck seems to be tied to something that is out of our hands. In the past this was “higher” entities; spirits, gods, ancestors, etc. controlling one’s luck or fate. Enormous amounts of time and energy went into appealing for divine protection by sacrificing animals, praying, burning incense, creating amulets, using voodoo, among countless other things. The interesting thing is that none of these tasks are one-and-done situations. And, in many cases, greater actions were performed for situations where more luck/guidance/protection was needed. This suggests that it is varying. One does not perform actions and then have X amount of luck for the rest of their lives. Luck seems to be able to be used up, it seems to be a finite resource. Even modern-day superstitions talk about it as a finite resource: “Wish me luck!” or “I need all the luck I can get” are common phrases. Likewise knocking on wood in order to keep a bad outcome from happening is done (I do this all the time).
Luck seems to be able to be inherited, at least according to the Norse. Although this conception is still seen even in popular media today. Take the book Holes by Louis Sachar for example. Stanley Yelnats has horrific luck as does his father (none of his inventions ever work). They chock this up to their no good, dirty rotten, pig-stealing great great grandfather. This grandfather was cursed because he did not carry the fortune teller Madam Zeroni up the mountain as he promised he would. The story follows Stanley who does have quite terrible luck. Eventually this curse is broken when he carries Madam Zeroni’s great great grandson up a mountain. As soon as he does that, his luck is changed for the better. There is no more curse. Nothing blocking his luck anymore.
Maybe there is some truth to this! If trauma can be inherited from our ancestors, why not luck!? (This is tongue-in-cheek of course. Well. Maybe.) They do shape the circumstances that we find ourselves in. This is called circumstantial luck by Thomas Nagel. It is under the umbrella of something called moral luck. The field trying to understand moral luck really began in the wake of papers by philosophers Thomas Nagel and Bernard Williams on this topic. They question if luck can make a moral difference and both end up agreeing that it does a moral difference. The quintessential example is of two drivers who both drove home drunk from a party. One of them hits a pedestrian while the other doesn’t. Both had the same moral failing, driving home drunk, but one, due to the circumstances of the world around them, got lucky and didn’t hit anyone, while the other did. Something was out of their control. Courts would judge the one who hit the pedestrian much harsher than the one that did not (They should’ve just sacrificed a few more animals and they would’ve been golden).
Nagel suggests there are four different kinds of luck:
- Resultant luck – luck in the way things turn out
- Circumstantial luck – luck involved in the kinds of problems and situations one faces, the circumstances one finds oneself in.
- Constitutive luck – luck in who one is, the traits and dispositions that one has
- Causal luck – luck in how one is determined by antecedent circumstances (Nagel says the appearance of causal moral luck is the classic problem of free will)
So, your circumstantial luck and constitutive luck can be modified by your ancestors’ luck throughout their lives. What happened to them directly influences you for example. These four different types of luck are used in philosophical discussions on epistemology, ethics, philosophy of action, philosophy of law, political philosophy, and others. Examples of usages of luck in these fields would be the following:
- If you know, then it’s not lucky that you believe accurately.
- If it was lucky that you acted as you did, then you did not freely so act.
- If you and I behave in the same way but my conduct has worse results than yours through sheer bad luck, I am no more blameworthy than you are for so behaving.
- We should redistribute resources so as to enhance the prospects of those who, through sheer bad luck, are among our worst off.
- We can properly punish successful criminal attempts more severely than ones that fail only by luck.
Moral luck and these examples above are a whole other project to tackle, which might come later. To change gears to what luck is, in modern philosophy there are three classes of luck: probability, modal, and control views of luck. However, as Steven D. Hales points out, these three classes of luck ultimately fall prey to three classes of counterexamples: luck necessities, skillful luck, and diachronic luck.
On the probability theory of luck an event is luck only if it is improbable. The modality theory says that an event is only lucky if it is fragile meaning that if the world been very slightly different it would not have occurred. Russian Roulette would be lucky then because in a close world, where the bullet was in one chamber over, would have meant losing. The third theory is control theory. Control theory argues that a fact is lucky only if the person had no control over whether it was a fact or not.
Now Hales goes on to give counterexamples to all of these theories and they are pretty entertaining counterexamples so I will go through a few of them here.
The first class of counterexamples is lucky necessities.
According to the modal and probability accounts, one is lucky only if things might have gone badly when they went well, or if one’s success was against all odds. One is unlucky if one just missed out on a likely success, or if a small change in the world would have brought victory instead of the actual loss.
The first example is: If the gravitational constant, G, were a bit weaker, then the universe would have rapidly expanded into a thermodynamically entropic thin soup of lifeless fundamental particles. If it were a bit stronger, then everything would have clumped up into giant black holes and there would be no life. We hit the sweet spot: we are lucky that the gravitational constant made life possible.
Don’t you feel lucky that G is the size it is? I do now!
The second example he gives is the unhaunted house. Pete and Ashley walk past a deserted house that everyone believes is haunted. Pete suggests to Ashley that they explore the house. Ashley doesn’t believe in ghosts and says “we are lucky that the house isn’t really haunted. Otherwise I would be afraid to go in.” (assuming ghosts aren’t real) On the modal view, it can’t be the case that Pete and Ashley are lucky that the house isn’t haunted because it is impossible for the house to be haunted. There are no haunted houses in any worlds. He provides 5 other counterexamples, including one where you are lucky that your friend Bob is not Jack the Ripper.
The second set of counterexamples is skillful luck.
Hales says “The problem of lucky necessities showed that the probability and modal theories cast their nets too narrowly, failing to accommodate legitimate cases of luck. The problem of skillful luck shows that they cast their nets both too narrowly and too widely. There are cases of skillful achievement that all three theories declare to be no more than luck, and cases of luck that all three theories rule are due to skill and not luck.”
The first counterexample of this type is Ty Cobb. He was the best hitter in baseball batting an average of .366. But by all accounts he was lucky to hit the ball. 2/3 of the time he failed. According to the probability theory it was always luck when he hit the ball. And, since no one has ever batted over .500 for a season, every hit in the game of baseball can be attributed to luck. But, no one would deny the difference between MLB players and casual amateurs, so the probability account of luck cannot explain this difference. On the modal account, if the ball was slightly higher or lower, faster or slower, then the person is lucky to hit the ball. And, on the control theory, whether Cobb gets a hit at any particular at-bat is beyond his control. He cannot control the pitches he gets, the wind, the rain, or distractions. So he cannot have control over whether he hits the ball or not.
The third type of counterexamples is diachronic luck.
Attributions of luck are contextually determined, something that none of the three classes of luck can accommodate. Take the example of a slot machine. You pull the lever and three reels stop at different times. It has the same probability of landing on a lemon, cherry, apple, etc. First reel lands on cherry. That’s not luck, you don’t care about that. The first symbol is irrelevant. The second lands on cherry. Okay. Cool. We are getting there. This still is not too lucky though because the machine doesn’t pay out for two of the same symbol. But you hope lady luck shoes up for the third reel. It lands on cherry. Jackpot! You were luck the third one came up on cherry! Viewed as a diachronic series, the final cherry was lucky because it gave the jackpot. But the three reels are independent of each other and not causally connected. And each symbol had to land on the same one to win. So it was just as necessary for the first one to land on cherry as the third. Viewed synchronically, no reel is luckier than any other. But none of the three theories can accommodate the diachronic judgement that occurs when the third reel seems much more lucky than the first two.
Hales conclusion from this is that “(1) every theory of luck irreparably fails on its own terms, and (2) given that we systematically exhibit bias—we are predictably irrational—in assignments of luck, (3) it may be more reasonable to subscribe to an error theory that explains luck attributions as a form of cognitive illusion.” (Hales, 506)
Well. There you have it. Luck is an illusion! But if luck isn’t probability then why is it that any board game involving luck my wife wins 90% of the time and anytime it is a skill-based board game I win the majority of the time? Perhaps it is fate, I’m just destined to lose all games based on luck.
So what about luck as an essence tied to fate? Two interesting examples of this are the Greeks and the Norse peoples.
Greeks
The Greeks paid close attention to the uncertainty of the future and the risks that such uncertainty involved. In addition to the numerous temples to the gods where people could pray for safety, prosperity and luck in the future, spread across the landscape were oracular sanctuaries where all people could go and seek what was in store for their futures. There they were concerned with misfortunes that might befall them. These misfortunes took the form of two types of groups.
The first group of misfortunes were acts of mortals attacking other mortals and supernatural entities attacking mortals. These supernatural entities ranged from the gods, to heroes, and monsters. Of the latter-most category are the Erinyes who were said to avenge the deaths of relatives, especially parents according to Ester Eidinow. Transgressions on the part of an individual would cause supernatural misfortunes to occur. Similarly, the Norse conception of misfortune had a similar strain, which we will explore in a moment.
The second group was a “ministry of misfortune”, a group of entities whose work was the operation of luck, fate, and fortune (Eidinow, 7). Associated with this ministry were the ideas of apportioning, lottery, spinning or weaving, or being snared. Luck was portioned out; the past and future was spun together, becoming inseparable. All of the entities above, in ancient Greece, could “attack” an individual. There, people imagined different experiences and emotions that could be felt that we, in modern times, consider to be internal, as attacks on an individual from outside his or her body. (Eidinow, 30). Different forces, such as the ministry, could work on a person shaping their existence. One’s misfortunes, one’s lack of luck, could be attributed to these varying entities.
One such force a certain conception of fate, Moira, was first elucidated in the Homeric epic, the Iliad. There it was found in connection with death, as in “it was fated for someone to die” or “death was prepared for someone”. (Eidinow, 31) However, it was also used to describe the travels and eventual return of Odysseus. In the Homeric poems moira meant “portion or part”. The moira is the portion of glory, of sadness, of happiness, of death. One’s portion of “destiny” was distributed according to decent and tradition, in a similar way to the Norse tradition. However, one could also gain more than their ordained portion and had to face consequences because their action was “over moira”. They broke the order of things. The question is how the gods fit into that. Sometimes the gods, especially Zeus, are in charge of fate. Achilles describes Zeus as sitting with two urns, one containing blessings or luck, and the other ills or misfortune which he doles out on mortals. In other cases, Zeus is simply participating in the already foreseen events that were devised by the moira. (Eidinow, 32). So does fate decide luck? Or does Zeus’s favor provide luck? It seems to change from poem to poem.
In later Greek history, the goddess Tyche appears. Tyche was depicted as holding a rudder, guiding and conducting the affairs of the world. She was the goddess of fortune, chance, providence, and fate. Tyche was also at some points called on of the Fates, she carried a ball which represented the varying unsteadiness of fortune, capable of rolling in any direction. She was one side of a coin. The other was Nemesis. She was the goddess who provided a check on the extravagant favors that were conferred by Tyche in the form of fortune. Nemesis also would enact retribution on those who became arrogant before the gods. Tyche could be seen as the blessing which Zeus gave out to mortals, and Nemesis as the ills given out when a mortal fell out of favor of the gods.
Norse
In Scandinavia among the Norse people luck was seen as an inherent quality in a person and even in their lineage. Luck had little to do with chance. Luck was a part of one’s personality just as strength, intelligence, courage, and other character traits are. This luck manifested itself in personal characteristics and in events shaping themselves to the wishes of the lucky individual. Luck was something to be had and it could be had of specific traits such as fishing luck, weather-luck, hunting-luck, wind-luck, etc. An individual could be lucky in one area, such as fishing, but unlucky in another like weather.
Kings in these traditions were great men of luck. They were able to send their luck to assist others within their kingdom. The Danish historian Vilhelm Gronbech describes kings as:
“To get a comprehensive view of the king’s luck, we have to ask: what was demanded, in the old days, to make a man a true king? War-speed, the power of victory, is but one of the distinguishing marks which place the leader in a class apart from everyday characters. His constitution is marked throughout by greater strength and hardihood. Life is more firmly seated in him, whether it be that he is proof against weapons, or that they seem, perhaps, to turn aside from the spot where he stands. The first time Oláfr Trygvasson misses his mark is when he aims his bow at Jarl Eírikr. ‘Truly the Jarl’s luck is great!’, he exclaims. […] And even though perhaps such a degree of hardiness was only found among the very few particularly favoured, we must presume that the king had this advantage over ordinary warriors, that his wounds healed more quickly and more completely.” (131-132)
Those with luck such as theirs were destined to become kings, to be praised. Life was not so great for those who through some means or another, lacked luck. Luckless men were under condemnation in the Nordic people. This condemnation varied from person to person. In some cases, the unlucky man is seen as a nidingr, which in our times is equivalent to something like a pedophile (Sommers). In other cases, lucklessness is seen just as a flaw, a lack, or something to avoid but not seen in a negative light as in the first case. In still other cases, there is no condemnation at all because certain luckless people, who might be struck with a relentless lack of luck are free from any sort of judgement because their action is ruled by fate alone. In the first case, lucklessness might be caused by a transgression of some sort: sacrilege, oath-breaking, kin-slaying, etc. Lucklessness from these could be passed down generations until penance was made.
In light of the role luck played, it is no surprise then that “one of the strongest elements in the approach of both Celtic and Germanic peoples to the supernatural world was the desire to obtain luck in future enterprises and in everyday life.” (Davidson, 134). One method of this was choosing to hear one’s fortune. In some Norse poetry, individuals have good reason to decide to hear their coming fortune, even if they may not be able to change major events in their life. Knowing about these sorts of events in advance allows them to respond properly, which will keep them from transgressing in a way that might harm their luck for themselves or for future generations.
In one of the Eddic poems, Vafðrúðnismál, Odin journeys to test his wits against the giant Vafðrúðnir. There Odin challenges the giant to a riddle contest and the giant decides that the loser will forfeit his life. Odin answers the giants questions about mythology easily. But, importantly, when it is Odin’s turn to ask questions, he asks about the origins and fates of the universe, about Ragnarok and his own death (which is ironic considering the cost of losing the contest is death). He then abruptly ends the contest by asking the giant what Odin whispered to Baldr on his funeral pyre, revealing his identity to the giant, but winning the contest. Why would Odin want to learn about his own demise? Possibly for the hope to change it, but maybe also to insure the giants’ defeat even if Odin himself will perish. Odin was testing whether Fate is actually as immutable as it seems. Learning about the events, and what might be, was important for Odin, just as for the common person.
Fate seems in Old Norse literature usually as an impersonal force that guides the universe, and some other times as the norns, female figures who embody fate and who personally dictate lives and deaths of human beings, perhaps what gives the sense that one’s fate can change. (Mayus, 18) Even if fate is set, individuals still have some ability to affect life here and now through their preservation of their honor or luck for them and their descendants. Despite possibly learning or knowing when one will die, as Odin does, individuals can still work around those fates to gain some benefit for themselves or their family on the earth.
Luck could be held onto, lost, or regained.
In both the Greek and Norse cases above it is tracking something like karma, the karma one has but also from their ancestors. It also could be said that it is tracking fate, the way things are supposed to turn out (the free will/determinism questions are much too large to tackle here). It tracks divine favor, being given luck from the gods.
So if luck isn’t just a concept, then what does that make it? It must be something–a substance. What if luck was like glue? The glue that held everything together. Maybe on these ancient conceptions luck is what binds your fate to your actions. In any case, I don’t seem to have much luck, so I won’t be testing it in Vegas anytime soon.