Even though I was born in Perth, Western Australia, I have lived in the UK for so long, my accent is now 60 to 80 percent British. While I enjoy sports, I’m not a super-fan of any of them, and it has been a very long time since I’ve applied a prawn to a barbecue. I’m not a typical Australian. But then again, no one is.
After the 2011 census, the Australian Bureau of Statistics published who the average Australian was: a thirty-seven-year-old woman who, among other things, “lives with her husband and two children (a boy and a girl aged nine and six) in a house with three bedrooms and two cars in a suburb of one of Australia’s capital cities.” And then they discovered that she does not exist. They scoured all the records and no one person matched all the criteria to be truly average. As they rightly pointed out:
While the description of the average Australian may sound quite typical, the fact that no one meets all these criteria shows that the notion of the “average” masks considerable (and growing) diversity in Australia. – Australian Bureau of Statistics
…
Having unmasked one Mr. Average, I was prepared to make amends and find a replacement. I contacted the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) to see if it was possible to find someone with the reduced criteria the newspaper used, instead of the full average Australian range of statistics. The fine people at ABS found my request interesting enough to dig through the data for me. Expanding the population considered from West Australia to the whole country subtly changed the averages: Mr. Average is now a woman with one fewer bedrooms in her house. They estimated that, for the loosest definition of average (using only a few main statistics), there would only be “roughly four hundred” matching people out of Australia’s then population of 23,401,892. So there you have it: 99.9983 percent of the Australian population is not average. I’m in pretty good company after all.
Humble Pi: When Math Goes Wrong in the Real World
Matt Parker
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