Blustery, with even more showers

Some time ago I commented on the specious precision of a weather forecast that I once heard in America. Today I have heard on half a dozen news programs something that relates to it, something I call the "only an estimate" defence.
Six months ago the weather forecasters were all agreeing that we were in for a summer of sunshine, cloudless skies and balmy evening barbecues. As I sit here typing I'd say that if there have been any days in the last couple of months when we didn't have heavy rain, then I must have blinked and missed them. The Meteorological Office has just revised its prediction for the summer to suggest, now that we are half way through it, that it won't be sunny - it will rain a lot. This has triggered a reaction in every news programme where the weather forecasters are all being asked the same question, "How come you got it wrong?"
Their answer is perfectly predictable. They didn' get it wrong. They said there was a good chance of a sunny summer. A sixty-five per cent chance, for those who enjoy specious accuracy, and all that's happened is that the weather has fallen into the remaining thirty-five percent. Of course the same would have been true for a seventy-five, eight-five or even ninety-nine point nine percentage.
Naturally nobody was saying that six months ago. The specious precision of their original predictions, which were being constantly proclaimed with such bright optimism is now being used as their defence.

It would be nice if they just put their hands up and said, "We were guessing, it's what we do. We have no more idea than you do."

Blustery, with showers

Geoffrey Pullum, over at Language Log makes a point that also occurred to me many years ago when I first visited America and found myself watching a television weather forecast. The forecast was remarkable because it managed the trick of being simultaneously both extremely precise and totally meaningless. They said, if memory serves, "There is an eighty per cent chance of rain at three O'clock this afternoon."
It's marvellous. It's the curse of specious precision that afflicts so much of modern day life. I found myself sitting watching this forecast and asking myself the question, "If it doesn't rain at three O'clock, will they have been right or wrong?"
Actually you could ask the same question if it did rain. (And it did!)
There's another example on a poster at my Metro stop. At the bottom of the stairs is a poster that says "Regular use of the stairs can help you to avoid weight gain", a laudable sentiment certainly.

At the top another poster says "Congratulations. You have just used one sixteenth of the calories needed to avoid weight gain." The linguistic logic of that sentence may be a bit suspect (you need calories to avoid weight gain?) but the intent is clear. One sixteenth, eh? Not one fifteenth or one seventeenth but one sixteenth. And that regardless of your size, age, gender, level of fitness or whatever. Now that I think of it, it also doesn't specify a time frame - the calories I need in a week? A day? An hour? Speciously accurate and utterly meaningless.
I may come up with more, similarly nonsensical, examples later. Please feel free to add any that you can think of in the comments.