Feel The Variations

This is why it takes several eye-witnesses to reconstruct any incident, and then you are faced with their interpretation of what they think they have seen, rather than what they may have seen, especially if their version has been affected by conversation with others. One of the first things to do, whether dealing with serious matters or even children (in our case our mother didn’t learn this till much later), is to separate the witnesses, so they have to at least stick to one version. Theirs. A classic urban myth is of the two physics students who went partying out of town for the weekend before their exam. They awoke much later than planned on the Monday, and rushed back to find they were too late to take the exam. They immediately concocted a story, that their vehicle had had a flat tyre and this was the reason they were too late. The professor listened to their story sympathetically and then told them they could sit the test the next morning, providing they arrived on time. They did. Enthusiastically they presented themselves to the professor who took each of them to a different room. He returned a short time later and put the test paper face down on their respective desks. He explained they could turn the test paper over at 9am and begin. 9am arrived and the two students turned over the papers and read the first question.

1:  Explain the principal of Thermo-dynamics at sea level. (20 percent mark).

The students quickly began. Easy enough question. Then, they turned the page to the next question.

2:  Which tyre was flat? (80 percent mark).

Even if they were lucky and guessed correctly, they had a one in four chance of being wrong. Including if they had simply tried to nominate a side, even if not a specific tyre. Had they thought the story through, they would have realised this was one time, they (as witnesses), needed to talk to each other to ensure their created version made sense. This is an example when such indicators prove a version is concocted. Some witnesses stories are so perfectly correct they ring alarm bells.

For me, that wasn’t the issue. I was lying there, bleeding from my head wounds, pained all over. Stunned from impacting with the wall and feeling somewhat nauseous from all the motion I had been through (including in and out of consciousness). I was unable to see, and yet hearing a multitude of versions already. Then I believe I asked about my bike. And again, there was a series of differing versions and opinions. “it’s a write off” was one voice. “The front wheel is wrecked, but the frame seems okay?” was another opinion. “Did he have a bike?” was another voice. Everyone was apparently involved, yet some didn’t even seem to know what had actually happened. But they were there. Involved. That was the important part. They would be a part of the days ‘excitement’ and chat that would be the talk of the valley that morning and afternoon.

(Continued tomorrow)