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Statistics: An open letter

Tulsa dudes, turns out, are 8th hottest in the country.



Tulsa dudes, turns out, are 8th hottest in the country.

Dear Statistics,

I am moved by numbers; I am a civilized animal. Maths is the language of the universe, after all. But sometimes I don’t know where you’re coming from. Mark Twain was bitching about what a bendy little tool you were way back at the turn of the century. And here we are, a hundred years later, with more access than ever to you via the Intertubes. When I see you out and about I ask, who have you shamed today?

Oh, you don’t know what I’m talking about? Well, for example, WalletHub. The online “social media company that allows people to search for and compare financial products” also publishes best and worst lists based on state and local rankings—out of the goodness of its heart, obvs—and not at all as a marketing ploy to woo anyone into purchasing its wares.

WalletHub said that, according to you, Oklahoma sucks for safety (48th); our state is bad for summer road trips (only Mississippi ranked worse); and Oklahoma is one of the worst states for teen drivers (47th). Somehow, Tulsa came out ‘meh’ for its ranking on the list of best places for families (66th out of 150).

Damn if your metrics aren’t rough on our civic self-esteem. Sometimes, Stats, as much as we love you, we need to throw you out and find our own truth somewhere in that lovely, hidden space between the numbers.

Here’s what’s worse: our relative hotness compared to other middle-size cities. Stats, you’re hittin’ me right where it hurts – in my face. The Hot or Not app recently invoked your name, Stats, in ranking the nation’s hottest people, based on 10 million users’ votes. The biggest cities were left out of the running because big city equals big hawtness, again, obvs. Tulsa dudes, turns out, are 8th hottest in the country. (Kudos, Tulsa moms.) 

But you’re telling our fair Tulsa gentlefellows they are only 8th prettiest? I mean, per your figures, our boys aren’t Lubbock, Texas-dreamy or Boise, Idaho-yowza. According to you, Tulsa boys need to get on Lincoln, Neb.’s level.

OK, we’ll take it. Maybe Nebraska grows ‘em special. But Tulsa gals didn’t even break the top 10 in the Hot or Not listing. 

How could you do this to us, Stats? Tulsa’s soundbronies will be unbearable once they find out about this. Plus, did you even talk to Science? We’re all coming out of the same genetic pool. Per common sense, Tulsa’s sisters are bound to be as cute as Tulsa’s brothers. But per you, Stats, Tulsa ladies are buried far down below a top-ten littered with California suburbs (holla Stockton, Riverside, Santa Ana). I bet you didn’t even know Oklahoma is home to more Miss America winners per capita than any other state. 

Come on, Stats, admit it. So much gets left out when you shave things down to simple computations. Before we take on negative superlatives, it’s worth taking a look at the fine print to see how you were gathered and interpreted—the inner workings of your delicate methodology, as it were. 

One person’s perfect city is another’s hellhole. One person’s hotness is another’s friend zone. This fine print is where I discover statistics are silent on best doting grandmas and the number of perfect road trip buddies per capita; there’s no data that can quantify glorious sunsets. 

Smooches, love, and hotness,

— Jennie