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.
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.
Four settlements in five come back below the 1.50 outlay, and the average payoff is still 1.80, an edge of 0.30 a contract or twenty percent of the money at risk. The reflex is not bad arithmetic, it is the mode standing in for the mean. The article carries the tally over one full cycle, the threshold saying you need the large outcome more often than one time in eight, and the reason waiting longer can leave you less likely to be ahead.
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.
Turning all fifty-two cards lands on exactly zero, which makes zero the floor rather than the value. Backward induction over the grid of remaining cards gives the exact rational 41984711742427/15997372030584, and a two-line argument shows the optimal policy can never finish below zero in any deal. The article carries the small-deck ladder, the stopping boundary the table actually produces, and two plausible rules that lose money against it.
The fraction that maximises long-run growth is exactly the edge, 2p-1, which is 0.2 on this coin, and one derivative gets you there. Double it and the growth rate is -0.0024469 a flip, negative on a game that leans your way three hundred times in a row, and the crossing happens at 0.3894 rather than at 0.4. The article carries the exact median over 300 flips, 25 dollars to 10504.19 at the optimum and to 12.00 at double, the reason about 48 percent of overbettors still finish ahead anyway, and the place where the textbook approximation mean minus half the variance returns the opposite sign.
Take the centre, then mirror every move through it, and you place the last coin. The proof has three requirements and only one of them needs that opening move, which is the step a one-line answer skips. Central symmetry alone is not the condition: an annulus is centrally symmetric and the first player loses on it.
A stranger says out loud what every islander can already see, and ten days later ten people leave. The fact was mutual knowledge all along; what the announcement supplied was the nine levels of nested knowledge above it. An explicit count over 4096 possible worlds settles the induction without trusting it.
A die is rolled up to three times and you are paid the face you stop on. The reflex answer of 3.5 is the value of the same game with the right to stop deleted, and the real value is 14/3, reached by computing the game from its last roll backwards. The thresholds move as rolls run out, which is why a four is worth keeping late and worth rejecting early.
Counting to fifty in steps of one to ten, the first player wins, and exactly one of the ten legal openings does it. The stations are 6, 17, 28, 39 and 50, spaced eleven apart because eleven is one more than the largest legal step. The article carries the residue argument that proves the opening is unique, and the target 55 where the advantage flips.
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.
Three and a half is the exact average of a plain die, which is why it survives being double-checked. The rule does not reweight six outcomes, it deletes one, leaving a uniform payoff on five faces and an answer of four. The procedure costs 1.2 rolls on average, and the version where the reroll is your choice is a different game worth 4.25.
You hit one time in ten, your two opponents three and six, and you shoot first. Firing into the air is worth 965/4736 = 20.376%, which beats removing the strongest player by 0.195 percentage points, because a landed hit drops you into the duel you must enter second at 7/37 rather than first at 10/37. The article carries all three option values, the fixed points they solve, and the single Nash equilibrium that turns the usual assumption into a conclusion.