Imagine this make-believe world:

Each mistake you make adds to your credibility.

Each misstep you take is further evidence of your infallibility.

You’d enjoy an “Escape Hatch 22″ instead of a “Catch 22″ – a life of triumph, instead of a life of frustration.

What brings this to mind are the reports of the “greatest upset in Super Bowl history” or even “one of the biggest upsets in sports history.” Giants 17, Patriots 14.

The word “upset” serves many journalists well; “upset” means never having to say you were wrong, i.e., “I was right, but it was an upset.”

And the more people who are wrong in the prediction, the greater the upset – focusing on what a stupendous “upset” occurred, in a curious way, reinforces the notion that you really were right all along.

Invoking the word “upset” is a cure-all, allowing one to move undeterred to the next prediction.

Given hindsight, one might question how great an “upset” it was when the New England Patriots stayed in the ranks of the thousands of other NFL teams who had never won 19 in a row.

Given hindsight, one might question how great an “upset” it was when the Patriots had barely squeaked by these same New York Giants in the regular season finale and had trouble beating the Baltimore Ravens and Philadelphia Eagles, too.

Never mind. Given how many sports prognosticators were wrong, it had to be a great upset.

The same mentality is at work in political punditry where the focus often is more on what is going to happen than on what today’s news is. You might make a mistake in reporting the news. You can’t make a mistake when it comes to predictions. “Upset” sees to that. It’s not such a make-believe world after all.