Four-leaf clovers may look like talismans, but they are first and foremost genetic outliers. The extra leaflet comes from a heritable mutation interacting with local growing conditions, which means that any patch of grass is running a quiet experiment in population genetics long before anyone bends down to search it.
What appears as luck is mostly a textbook case of selection bias and marginal effects. People who spend more time scanning the ground simply multiply their sample size, driving up the expected value of rare finds. Behavioral economics would call this a shift in search intensity; probability theory would frame it as repeated independent trials that steadily lower the odds of walking away empty-handed.
Viewed through this lens, the folkloric symbol flips. The clover does not grant fortune; it records a series of choices about attention, patience and curiosity, compressed into a single small leaf that most passersby never notice at all.