Gambling advertising legal silliness

Google AdSense ads on intrade.comThe absurdity of gambling laws in the US leads to such silliness as:

  • In 2007, Google, Microsoft, and Yahoo! paid millions in penalties for placing gambling ads, something they haven’t done since they were told to stop in 2004.
  • Yahoo! can quote prices from intrade, but can’t link to intrade.
  • Google can’t advertise for intrade/tradesports, but can place AdSense ads on intrade.com and tradesports.com. In other words, Google can’t sell eyeballs to gambling sites, but can sell eyeballs on gambling sites.

The right way to implement a multi-outcome prediction market: Linear programming

There are many examples of multi-outcome prediction markets, for example election markets with more than two candidates, or sports championship markets with dozens of teams.

What is the best way to implement a multi-outcome prediction market?

The simplest way is to effectively ignore the fact that there are multiple outcomes, breaking up the market into a bunch of separate binary markets, one for each outcome. Each outcome-market is an independent instrument with its own order flow and processing.

This seems to be the most common approach, taken by for example intrade, IEM, racetracks, and most financial exchanges. IMHO, it’s the wrong way, for three reasons.

  1. Splitting up a market can hurt liquidity. In a split market, there are effectively two ways to do everything (e.g., buy outcome 1 equals sell outcomes 2 through N), so traders may not see the best price for what they want to do, and orders may not fill at the best price available. There may even be orders that together constitute an agreeable trade, yet are stuck waiting in separate queues.
  2. A split market may also slow information propagation. Price changes in one outcome do not directly affect prices of other outcomes; it’s left to arbitrageurs to propagate logical implications.
  3. Finally, a naïve implementation of a split market may limit traders’ leverage, forcing them set aside more money than necessary to complete a set of trades. For example, on IEM, short selling one share at $0.99 requires that you have $1 in your account, even though the most you could possibly lose in this transaction is $0.01. The reason is that to short sell on IEM you must first buy the bundle of all outcomes for $1, then sell off the outcome that you don’t want.

IEM has possibly the worst implementation, suffering from all three problems.

Intrade’s implementation is slightly better: they at least handle leverage correctly.

Newsfutures is smarter still.1 They generate phantom bids to reflect the redundant ways to place bets. For example, if there are bids for outcomes 2 through N that add up to $0.80, they place a phantom ask on outcome 1 for $0.20. A trader who accepts the ask, buying outcome 1 for $0.20, actually sells outcomes 2 through N behind the scenes, an entirely equivalent transaction. Chris Hibbert has a more elaborate methodology for eking out as much liquidity as possibly using phantom bids, an approach he has implemented plans to implement in his Zocalo platform.

Yet phantom bids are a band-aid that cannot entirely heal a fractured market. Still missing is the ability to trade bundles of outcomes in a single transaction.

For example, consider the US National Basketball Association championship market, with 30 teams. A split market (possibly with phantom bids) works great for betting on individual teams one at a time, but is terribly cumbersome for betting on groups of teams. For example, betting that a Western conference team will win requires 15 separate transactions. A common fix is to open yet another market in each popular bundle, however this limits choice and exacerbates all three problems above.

Bundling is especially useful with interval bets. For example, consider this bet on the peak price of gasoline through September 2008, broken up into intervals $3-$3.25, $3.25-$3.40, etc. In order to bet that gas prices will peak between, say, $3.40 and $4.30, you must buy all six outcomes spanning the interval, one at a time. (Moreover, you must sum the six outcome prices manually to compute a price quote.)

Fortunately, there is a trading engine that solves all three problems above and also allows bundle bets…

It’s linear programming!

Bossaerts et al. call it combined value trading. Baron & Lange, Lange & Economides and Peters et al. call it a parimutuel call market. Fortnow et al. and Chen et al. describe it in the context of combinatorial call markets.

Whatever you call it, the underlying principle is relatively straightforward, and it seems inherently the right way to implement a multi-outcome market. Yet I’ve rarely seen it done. The only example I know of is the now defunct economic derivatives markets run by Longitude, Goldman Sachs, and Deutsche Bank.

The set up of the linear program is as follows. Each order is associated with a decision variable x that ranges between 0 and 1, encoding the fraction of the order that the auctioneer can accept.2 There is one constraint per outcome that ensures that the auctioneer never loses money across all outcomes. The choice of objective function depends on the auctioneer’s goals, but something like maximizing the fill fraction makes sense.

Once the program is set up, the auctioneer solves for the x variables to determine which orders to accept in full (x=1), which to accept partially (0<x<1), and which to reject (x=0). The program can be solved either in batch mode, after waiting to collect a number of orders, or in continuous mode immediately as new orders arrive. Batch mode corresponds to a call market. Continuous mode corresponds to a continuous auction, a generalization of the continuous double auction mechanism of the stock market.

Each order consists of a price, a quantity, and an outcome bundle. Traders can just as easily bet on single outcomes, negations of outcomes, or sets of outcomes (e.g., all Western Conference NBA teams). Every order goes into the same pool of liquidity no matter how it is phrased.

Price quotes are queries to the linear program of the form “at what price p will this order be accepted in full?” (I believe that bounds on the dual variables of the LP can be interpreted as bid and ask price quotes.)

Lange & Economides and Peters et al. devise clever ways to make prices unique rather than bid-ask ranges, by injected a small subsidy to seed the market at the onset.

Note that Hanson’s market scoring rules market maker also elegantly solves all the same problems as the LP formulation, including handling bundle bets. However, the market maker requires a patron to subsidize the market, while the LP auctioneer formulation is budget balanced — that is, can never lose money.

Also note that I am not talking about a combinatorial-outcome market here. In this post, I am imagining that the number of outcomes is tractable — small enough so that we can explicitly list, store, and compute across all of the outcomes. A true combinatorial-outcome market, on the other hand, has an exponentially large number of outcomes making it impossible to even list them all explicitly, and forcing all calculations to operate on an implicit representation of outcomes, for example Boolean combinations of base events.

1Apparently worked out in conjunction with Brian Galebach, a mathematician and Newsfutures fan extraordinaire who runs the prediction contest probabilitysports.com.
2Alternatively, the variables can range between 0 and q, where q is the quantity of shares ordered.

Death in artificial intelligence

Until just reading about it in Wired, I knew little1 of the apparent suicide of Push Singh, a rising star in the field of artificial intelligence.

Singh seemed to have everything going for him: brilliant and driven, he became the protégé of his childhood hero Marvin Minsky, eventually earning a faculty position alongside him at MIT. Professionally, Singh earned praise from everyone from IEEE Intelligent Systems, who named Singh one of AI’s Ten to Watch (apparently revised), to Bill Gates, who asked Singh to keep him appraised of his latest publications. Singh’s social life seemed healthy and happy. The article struggles to uncover a hint of why Singh would take his own life, mentioning his excruciating chronic back pain (and linking it to a passage on the evolutionary explanation of pain as “programming bug” in Minsky’s new book, a book partly inspired by Singh).

The article weaves Push’s story with the remarkable parallel life and death of Chris McKinstry, a man with similar lofty goals of solving general AI, and even a similar approach of eliciting common sense facts from the public. (McKinstry’s Mindpixel predated Singh’s OpenMind initiative.) McKinstry’s path was less socially revered, and he seemed on a never ending and aching quest for credibility. The article muses whether there might be some direct or indirect correlation between the eerily similar suicides of the two men, even down to their methods.

For me, the story felt especially poignant, as growing up I was nourished on nearly the same computer geek diet as Singh: Vic 20, Apple II, Star Trek, D&D, HAL 9000, etc. In Singh I saw a smarter and more determined version of myself. Like many, I dreamt of solved AI, and of solving AI, even at one point wondering if a neural network trained on yes/no questions might suffice, the framework proposed by McKinstry. My Ph.D. is in artificial intelligence, though like most AI researchers my work is far removed from the quest for general AI. Over the years, I’ve become at once disillusioned with the dream2 and, hypocritically, upset that so many in the field have abandoned the dream in pursuit of a fractured set of niche problems with questionable relevance to whole.

Increasingly, researchers are calling for a return to the grand challenge of general AI. It’s sad that Singh, one of the few people with a legitimate shot at leading the way, is now gone.

Push Singh Memorial Fund

1Apparently details about Singh’s death have been slow to emerge, with MIT staying mostly quiet, for example not discussing the cause of death and taking down a memorial wiki built for Singh.
1 My colleague Fei Sha, a new father, put it nicely, saying he is “constantly amazed by the abilities of children to learn and adapt and is losing bit by bit his confidence in the romantic notion of artificial intelligence”.