[Scene: A sunny afternoon in Dijon, France. Léa and Camille are walking through the charming streets of the old town, baguettes tucked under their arms. They approach the famous brass owl on the Church of Notre-Dame.]
Léa: (grinning) Ah, voilà! The lucky owl! Don’t forget — left hand only. Go on, Camille, make a wish!
Camille: (chuckling) Oh, Léa… you know I don’t do that.
Léa: Oh come on! You’re in Dijon — when in Rome, right? Or… when in Dijon, rub the owl!
Camille: I’d rather enjoy the architecture without molting a bird statue, thanks. Besides, you know it’s just a superstition, right?
Léa: Pfff! Maybe, but last year I wished for a new job after I rubbed it — and two months later, I landed the job at the bakery! Coincidence? I think not.
Camille: Léa, you also applied to, like, ten bakeries and practiced making croissants every weekend. Pretty sure the owl had less to do with it than your butter-laminating skills.
Léa: Ha! Well, maybe the owl gave me that extra push of luck! You can’t prove it didn’t help.
Camille: True, but I can’t prove the moon doesn’t influence my love life either — that doesn’t mean it does. Just because something happens after the owl rub doesn’t mean the owl caused it.
Léa: But you have to admit, it’s harmless! And kind of fun! Plus, I have friends who swear it worked for them too. Émilie rubbed it before her exams — passed with flying colors. Maxime wished for his crush to notice him — boom, they’re dating now!
Camille: And how many people rubbed the owl and didn’t get what they wished for? That’s called selection bias, my dear owl whisperer. We remember the hits, forget the misses.
Léa: Hmm… That’s a fancy way of saying you’re no fun.
Camille: [laughs] Maybe! But think about it: if everyone rubs it, someone’s bound to get lucky eventually. It’s like throwing spaghetti at the wall — one strand’s gonna stick.
Léa: Okay, Miss Scientist, tell me this: why does it make people feel better then? When I rub the owl, I feel hopeful, lighter somehow.
Camille: Now that’s interesting! Psychologists call that the placebo effect. Even if the owl has no magical powers, the act of believing in it can change your mood, boost your confidence — and that can genuinely affect outcomes. So in a way, you’re helping yourself, not the owl helping you.
Léa: So… you’re saying the real magic is… inside me? Wow, Camille, that’s kind of deep.
Camille: See? Who needs brass birds when you’ve got brains and determination!
Léa: But… just to cover all bases… maybe I should still rub it, right? I mean, it can’t hurt.
Camille: [grinning] Fine, knock yourself out. But I’m not rubbing it. I don’t need owl germs on my hands.
Léa: [laughing] You’re impossible! Okay, wish time… [rubs owl carefully with left hand] There! Now if my wish comes true, you owe the owl an apology.
Camille: Deal. And if it doesn’t, maybe you’ll owe me a croissant.
Léa: Either way, we both win!
Camille: That’s the kind of superstition I can get behind.
[They walk away laughing, Léa sneaking a backward glance at the owl, and Camille shaking her head fondly.]
Science Vs Superstition 
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