We will never definitively prove whether mask mandates worked during the COVID-19 pandemic—not with the crisp authority of pharmacological trials—because the circumstances themselves resisted clarity. Proper Randomized Controlled Trials (RCTs) would have required a moral obscenity: randomly splitting a population, enforcing strict mask-wearing protocols for one group and none for the other, then deliberately exposing both to infectious conditions.
Intentionally subjecting people to a deadly virus under strained public health systems—merely to pursue statistical precision—violates basic ethical norms. Moreover, the real world is inherently hostile to clean variables (a topic I explored when discussing why airline boarding is a mess): mask adherence fluctuates, viral variants evolve unpredictably, and public behavior veers between paranoia and apathy. Isolating the signal of mask mandates in this noise is akin to seeking symmetry in a kaleidoscope.
Perhaps the most sobering takeaway is that future efforts to evaluate sweeping health interventions will confront the same empirical turbulence and ethical dilemmas—making “absolute” answers perpetually elusive. Even much-cited studies, such as the Bangladesh mask trial, invite selective interpretation. Hopefuls and skeptics alike will highlight findings that align with their beliefs.
Yet despite all this indeterminacy, masks occupied a peculiar place in the public psyche—a signal of intent, a behavioral nudge. Their utility became less a question of virology and more one of psychology: the low cost and plausible benefit lured even the doubtful into compliance.
The broader lesson is clear: public health policy, like rhetoric, thrives not in absolutes but in persuasion, compromise, and the murky middle. And it is in that middle where humanity must weigh its choices.
Ask anyone who has ever written something that actually worked—a punchy social post, a compelling blog entry, a persuasive ad, or even a user manual that finally made sense—and they’ll tell you: it didn’t begin with confidence or inspiration. It started with motive. 
Cutting tennis balls in half might let you store more in a standard 3-ball tube, but the sacrifice is stark.
Most fortune cookie messages are vague, allowing for personal interpretation. None of these offer specifics—no details about time, place, or context. Because of this ambiguity, readers can easily connect the message to something in their own lives. “A pleasant surprise is waiting for you” could apply to anything from a surprise visit to an unexpected windfall. “The harder you work, the luckier you get” shares a motivational cliché. “You know how to have fun with others and enjoy solitude” covers two opposite traits, increasing the chance it resonates with anyone.
The Barnum Effect, also known as the Forer Effect, describes a psychological phenomenon where individuals believe that general personality descriptions are tailored specifically to them, even though these descriptions are vague enough to apply to a wide range of people. This effect helps explain why people 
The critical mind 
When you’re stuck or facing inner conflict, an unexpectedly helpful method is to imagine a conversation between different sides of yourself.
Defining a problem with a specific solution already in mind can limit your perspective and obscure the real root causes. This narrow focus often results in quick, ineffective decisions that miss the mark.
Creativity is hardwired in us. Watch a four-year-old for an hour, and you’ll see a mind brimming with inventions—imaginary friends, wild stories, makeshift gadgets. Without fear or judgment, she’ll explore, question, and reimagine the world.
The makers and operators of the RMS Titanic were so confident in their shipbuilding that its Captain, Edward Smith, one of the world’s most experienced sea captains at the time, had famously declared a few years earlier about another company ship, the RMS Adriatic, “I cannot imagine any condition which would cause a ship to founder. I cannot conceive of any vital disaster happening to this vessel. Modern shipbuilding has gone beyond that.” Well, we all know how the Titanic’s maiden voyage turned out.