In the last lesson you solved the medical test by counting people through a tree. That counting was Bayes’ theorem all along — the famous equation is just bookkeeping for exactly the tally you already did. So this lesson holds no new ideas, only new notation: we name the pieces, write the formula, and then — the part that actually changes your life — meet a second form of it that’s so easy you can update in your head while someone is still talking.
First, the four pieces, in the symbols everyone uses. Let be the hypothesis (“I have the disease”) and the evidence (“the test was positive”).
- — the prior: how likely was before the evidence. (Our base rate, .)
- — the likelihood: how likely the evidence is if the hypothesis is true. Read the bar “given.” (Our true-positive rate, .)
- — the likelihood of the evidence if the hypothesis is false. (Our false-positive rate, ; means “not .”)
- — the posterior: how likely the hypothesis is after the evidence. The number we want.
The formula, read off the tree
Here is Bayes’ theorem:
In words: the posterior equals the likelihood times the prior, divided by how likely the evidence was overall. That denominator — the total probability of the evidence, from anyone — is just the two ways the evidence can appear, added up:
Now watch this map exactly onto the people you counted last lesson. The numerator is the true-positive branch — 99 people out of 100,000. The denominator’s second term is the false-positive branch — 999 people. So:
That’s the same 99 ÷ 1,098 ≈ 9% you got by counting. The fractions are the people, divided by 100,000 top and bottom so the 100,000 cancels. The formula and the tree are the same object. If the symbols ever feel slippery, drop back to counting people — they can never lie to you.
Posterior ∝ likelihood × prior
Strip away the denominator (which is just there to make the probabilities sum to 1) and the heart of Bayes is three words: posterior is proportional to likelihood times prior. Your updated belief is your old belief, scaled by how well the evidence fits. A prior of zero stays zero (nothing updates a closed mind); a likelihood that’s equal under both hypotheses () leaves the prior untouched (useless evidence moves nothing). Everything else is in between.
In Bayes' theorem, which quantity is the one people most often confuse with the answer they actually want?
The friendlier twin: the odds form
The formula above is correct but clunky — that denominator is a pain. There’s a second way to write Bayes that throws the denominator away entirely, and it’s the form practitioners actually use. The trick is to stop thinking in probabilities and think in odds (which you met in the last course: odds of 3:1 against rain means 3 “no” for every 1 “yes”).
In odds form, Bayes’ theorem becomes a single multiplication:
Say it as a sentence and it’s unforgettable: prior odds × likelihood ratio = posterior odds. You take how the bet stood before, multiply by how strongly the evidence points, and you’ve got how the bet stands now. No denominator, no adding fractions — just one multiply. That middle term, the likelihood ratio (how much more likely the evidence is under than under ), is the entire strength of the evidence in one number, and it gets a whole lesson next.
Run the medical test through it:
- Prior odds of disease: , or about (1 sick for every 1000 healthy).
- Likelihood ratio: . A positive is 99 times more likely from a sick person than a healthy one.
- Posterior odds: times gives — about 99 sick for every 1000 healthy among the positives.
Convert back to a probability: , 9% again. Three routes — counting people, the probability formula, the odds form — one answer. The odds form is the one you can do on a napkin.
Why the odds form wins for chaining
Updating on several pieces of evidence is multiplication in odds form: posterior odds = prior odds × LR₁ × LR₂ × … Each independent clue is just another likelihood ratio you multiply in. That’s why the second positive test in the last lesson was so easy to chain — and why, in odds, a string of weak clues (each LR a little above 1) can multiply into a strong conclusion. Try chaining that with the fraction form and you’ll see why practitioners live in odds.
A spam filter is 20× more likely to see the word 'free!!!' in spam than in real mail (likelihood ratio = 20). You'd previously judged a particular email at about 1:1 odds of being spam. After seeing 'free!!!', the posterior odds are…
Worked example: the cab problem, in odds
Let’s run a fresh case end to end to prove the odds form isn’t a one-trick pony. A city’s cabs are 85% Green, 15% Blue. A cab is in a night-time hit-and-run. A witness says it was Blue, and in tests this witness correctly identifies a cab’s colour 80% of the time (and is wrong 20%). How likely is it the cab was actually Blue?
Intuition screams “80% — the witness said so.” Bayes says otherwise. Let = “the cab was Blue,” = “the witness said Blue.”
- Prior odds (Blue : Green) , i.e. .
- Likelihood ratio . (If the cab is Green, the witness wrongly says Blue 20% of the time.)
- Posterior odds times .
- As a probability , about 41%.
So even though a witness who’s right 80% of the time said Blue, it’s still more likely the cab was Green — because Green cabs are so common that the witness’s occasional mistakes on them (wrongly saying “Blue”) pile up faster than the genuine Blue sightings. The base rate (prior odds) refuses to be ignored, exactly as it did in the medical test. Same lesson, different costume.
In the cab problem the witness is 80% reliable and says 'Blue,' yet the cab is probably Green. What's the cleanest explanation?
The pieces, in one table
Keep this within reach until the vocabulary is automatic:
| Symbol | Name | Plain-language question | Medical test |
|---|---|---|---|
| Prior | How likely before the evidence? | (base rate) | |
| Likelihood | If is true, how likely is this evidence? | (true-positive) | |
| False-alarm likelihood | If is false, how likely is this evidence? | (false-positive) | |
| Posterior | How likely after the evidence? | ||
| Likelihood ratio | How many times better does the evidence fit ? |
When to reach for it
Reach for the odds form whenever you want to update quickly or repeatedly — a string of clues in a negotiation, several symptoms pointing at a diagnosis, multiple independent reviews of a hire. Estimate your prior odds, ask of each new clue “how much more likely is this if I’m right than if I’m wrong?” (that’s the likelihood ratio), and multiply. Reach for the full formula (or the tree) when you want the exact posterior probability for a single piece of evidence, or when you need to show your work. They’re the same theorem; pick the form that fits the job.
Check yourself: Bayes' theorem
What does the odds form of Bayes' theorem say?
Check your answer to continue.
Where this goes next
You can now write Bayes three ways and run it in odds on a napkin. One piece is still a black box, though: that likelihood ratio in the middle — the number that says how strong a clue actually is. Next, in “Strength of Evidence,” we open it up: what makes evidence diagnostic versus worthless, why a likelihood ratio near 1 means “ignore this,” how weak clues multiply into strong conclusions, and where the rule extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence comes from — it’s a likelihood ratio fighting a tiny prior.