A what dressed as a why

Within a minute of the final whistle, the studio has an explanation. The team lost because they lacked hunger. Because the midfield was too slow. Because the coach got his substitutions wrong.

Listen closely and most of it is the match told again in a confident voice. They conceded twice in the second half, therefore they lacked hunger. That is not a reason. It is a description wearing a reason's clothes.

We crave the why. Headlines promise it, children demand it at bedtime, and anyone who can supply it sounds wise. It is one of the easiest things in the world to sell.

It is also one of the hardest to produce. A real why would let you predict the next match, not just narrate the last one. It would hold up when the facts shifted slightly. Very few explanations survive that test, and the people offering them rarely put them to it.

The same happens far from football. A city has a quiet month in its malls, and by the end of it three confident explanations are going round: the heat, the end of the holidays, the new mall across town. Each is really a what, footfall fell while this was also true, presented as a cause. Each would send a shopkeeper in a different direction next month.

Knowing what happened is useful, and often enough. It is honest about its limits.

The trouble starts when a description is sold to you as an understanding. The test is simple. Ask what the explanation predicts, and notice how quickly it goes quiet.