[This post incorporates parts of posts from posts on my own blog and lecture notes I circulate to my graduate students. I figured it was worth revising and posting here as a) basically none of you are my grad students or read my blog and b) I want to get Jim Manzi's opinion on it as long as I have him as a co-blogger.]
Sampling error? Omitted variable bias? Bah, that's for first-year grad students. What I find really interesting is there are some fairly basic principles for how analysis can get really screwy but which can't be fixed by adding more control variables, increasing your sample size, or fiddling with assumptions about the distribution of the dependent variable. I'm thinking about really scary sources of model specification problems. Or actually, not model specification in of itself, but data collection. Your typical social science graduate curriculum talks a lot about getting standard error right but on a day to day basis most of our work goes into getting the data into the proper form and this is also where most problems come from.
But before talking math, let's contemplate a recent overheard confession that, "Turns out those funny looking toe shoes are pretty comfortable." As someone who feels naked without footwear that involves both socks and laces I had never given much thought to this and to the extent that I had, I assumed wearing these things was a costly signal of geekiness. But on reflection it makes perfect sense. After all if something as ridiculous looking as toe shoes were not comfortable then nobody would wear them. Conversely, four inch heels are very uncomfortable (or so I am given to understand) but many women wear them because they're attractive. So we can imagine a negative association between how attractive shoes are and how good they feel. Indeed, this describes my own collection of incredibly comfortable but informal Chucks, fairly comfortable and decent-looking dress shoes, and a second pair of dress shoes that are uncomfortable but fancy. One interpretation of this (and bear with me as I briefly sound like a critical studies type person) would be something along the lines of a sadistic gaze wherein the perceived attractiveness of a shoe is directly derived from the discomfort we imagine it imposing on its wearer. I don't doubt that people have made this argument but I don't buy it as a general argument because I can imagine shoes that are both hideous and uncomfortable --- say Crocs made of gravel and epoxy. There is no ontological reason why we can't have shoes that are both hideous and uncomfortable but rather there is a practical reason in that nobody wears shoes that are terrible in every way and so such shoes don't make it unto the market. That is, there is a big difference between the covariance of traits for all conceivable shoes versus covariance of traits among those shoes that actually get bought and worn.
Now here's where we get to the math. The logician, computer scientist, and fellow UCLA faculty Judea Pearl uses a graph theoretic approach to logic that emphasizes using counter-factual understandings to get at the underlying structure of causation. (His magnum opus is Causality. For an introduction relevant to the social sciences see Morgan and Winship.) One of Pearl's most interesting deductions is the idea of conditioning on a collider. If a case being observed is a function of two variables then this will induce an artifactual negative correlation between the variables. This is true even if in the broader population there is no correlation (or even a mild positive correlation) between the variables.
For instance, suppose that in a population of aspiring Hollywood actors there is no correlation between acting ability and physical attractiveness. However assume that we generally pay a lot more attention to celebrities than to some kid who is waiting tables while going on auditions. That is, we can not readily observe people who aspire to be actors, but only those who actually are actors. This implies that we need to understand the selection process by which people get cast into films. In the computer simulation displayed below I generated a population of aspiring actors characterized by "body" and "mind," each of which follows a normal distribution and with these two traits being completely orthogonal to one another. Then imagine that casting directors jointly maximize talent and looks so only the aspiring actors with the highest sum for these two traits actually get work in Hollywood. I have drawn the working actors as triangles and the failed aspirants as hollow circles. Among those actors we can readily observe there then will be a negative correlation between looks and talent, even though there is no such correlation in the grand population. If we see only the working actors without understanding the censorship process we might think that there is some stupefaction of being ridiculously good-looking.
This also applies when one or both of the variables is categorical. Many prestigious colleges have policies of preferring legacy applicants. This implies that the SAT scores of legacies are lower in the freshmen class even though they are higher in the applicant pool.
In these examples the censorship bias implied by conditioning on a collider is fairly easy to see because we have started from the latent population (aspiring actors, college applicants) and worked our way to the observed population (working actors, college freshmen). However the insidious thing about conditioning on a collider is that we almost always only see the observed population. This makes it easy to confuse what is actually a causal process of truncation with a more direct structure of causation, such as an idea that being attractive or a legacy somehow causes someone to be untalented or unintelligent.
Conditioning on a collider can occur any time that there is an underlying selection regime that involves either variables in the dataset or correlates of variables in the dataset. This is almost inevitable if you have built a composite dataset out of multiple constituent datasets. That is, a case appears in the sample if it meets one or more sampling criteria. This is actually a fairly common sample design, usually premised on the idea of not wanting to "miss anything" and/or wanting to increase the sample size.
Once you start looking for it you see it in a lot of studies. For instance, suppose a researcher were interested in which firms had donated to a particular PAC. The researcher might start with a basic sample like the Fortune 500 but then notice only 5 firms had donated to the PAC. Because statistical power in analysis of a binary variable is a function of both the number of cases (higher is better) and the proportion (close to .5 is better), the analysis would have minimal statistical power. The researcher might then add to the data all firms that donated to the PAC, regardless of whether or not they were in the 500. If the researcher were then to do a logistic regression of donating to the PAC as a function of annual revenues the results would almost inevitably be a strong negative effect. The reason is that inclusion in the sample is defined by high revenues (which is the inclusion criteria for the Fortune 500) OR donating to the PAC. There are firms with low revenues that didn't donate to the PAC, lots of them in fact, but they don't appear in the dataset.
We can see this at work in survey data. I took the 2010 wave of the General Social Survey and pulled all 395 Republicans and GOP-leaning independents (PARTYID==4/6). For these people I compared their attitudes on marijuana (GRASS) and government redistribution of wealth (EQWLTH, which I cut to a binary with responses 1/4). Among Republicans who oppose wealth distribution, 37% favor legalizing marijuana, as opposed to 38% among those who favor wealth redistribution. This difference of one percentage point is not even remotely statistically significant (chi2 0.08, 1 df).
OK, now wait a minute you may be saying, he promised us negative relationships but this is no trend at all. True, but let's contrast it with the same analysis for the whole sample, regardless of party. In general, 42% of those who oppose redistribution favor legalized marijuana against 53% of those who favor redistribution. This relationship is strongly statistically significant (chi2 14.50, 1 df). So among the general population there is a positive association between marijuana legalization and wealth redistribution. Among Republicans this effect is perfectly counterbalanced by conditioning on a collider. People presumably join the GOP because they agree with it on at least some issues. Republicans who oppose both weed and redistribution we can call movement conservatives, those who oppose weed but favor redistribution we can call social conservative populists, those who favor weed but oppose redistribution we can call libertarians, and those who favor both we can call people who should probably change their party registration. This case illustrates how conditioning on a collider doesn't necessarily result in a net negative relationship but rather can partially or complete suppress an underlying general trend.
Conversely, if you understand how this process works you can exploit it both analytically and practically. Although he doesn't express it in the language of counterfactual causality using directed acyclic graphs (and I'm not really sure why not), several of Tyler Cowen's "Six Rules for Dining Out" in this magazine (and the related book) follow this logic. Start from the assumption that many restaurants go out of business, meaning that failed ones are censored from the remaining pool of available restaurants. Now assume that the two main things that let restaurants succeed are food quality and various other things that we can collectively call atmosphere. The logic of conditioning on a collider implies that among surviving restaurants there should be a negative correlation between atmosphere and food. This implies that if you are monomaniacally focused on good food you should follow the heuristic of avoiding fashionistas and seeking out unpopular ethnic groups as the only way such places could possibly stay in business is if they offer good food. Conversely if you don't have an especially refined palate and really like to be around pretty girls you should probably follow the heuristic of "if you're going to dinner with Tyler Cowen don't let him choose the restaurant."
His proposals for tough restrictions on lobbying may be late in coming, but they’re drawing praise from government-reform advocates.
Donald Trump is, to put it delicately, an imperfect messenger for the cause of lobbying and ethics reform.
The men who managed his campaign for months, Paul Manafort and Rick Gates, were top lobbyists accused of working as foreign agents in possible violation of U.S. law. His campaign and transition teams are littered with prominent industry lobbyists. And in his trafficking in falsehoods and disregard for Constitutional boundaries, Trump himself has not exactly been a paragon of high ethical standards.
And yet the Republican nominee’s 11th-hour, five-point plan for ethics reform is winning decent reviews from good-government advocates in Washington.
The proposals would ban executive-branch officials along members of Congress and their staff from lobbying for five years after they leave the public sector. It would also expand the definition of “lobbying” to cut off lawmakers who immediately join big lobbying and law firms without formally registering as lobbyists. Trump’s bullet points are characteristically short on details, but in some cases they go well beyond what reformers have proposed.
An interview with Bill O’Reilly Monday night distilled many of the struggles the Late Show host has had in his first year on the job.
Almost 10 years ago, Stephen Colbert appeared on Fox News’ The O’Reilly Factor in character as the Colbert Report host—a pugnacious, egotistical super-pundit who tolerates no criticism. Colbert has frequently acknowledged that O’Reilly was the chief inspiration for his on-screen persona, and it was hilarious to see the imitation go up against the real thing. “What I do, Bill, is I catch the world in the headlights of my justice,” Colbert bragged to a smirking O’Reilly. “I’m not afraid of anything. Well, I might be afraid of you.” The same day, O’Reilly went on Colbert’s show; the combative tension between the two remains genuinely thrilling to watch.
On Monday night O’Reilly went on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert to talk about the state of the Republican Party and Fox News. The conversation was civil, at times energetic, but mostly bland. O’Reilly, clearly far more at ease, pontificated on the state of the Trump campaign while dodging any discussion of some of its biggest controversies. Ultimately, it was a notable reminder of just how much things have changed for Colbert since he cast off his late-night character and joined CBS. To stand out in a crowded landscape, Colbert has pursued even-handedness and empathy, a drastic swerve away from his former public persona. It’s an approach both noble and misguided, but a year into his Late Show run, it’s kept him firmly out of the zeitgeist.
It’s fiction to pretend that the most powerful nation can ever be truly “neutral” in foreign conflicts.
The eight years of the Obama presidency have offered us a natural experiment of sorts. Not all U.S. presidents are similar on foreign policy, and not all (or any) U.S. presidents are quite like Barack Obama. After two terms of George W. Bush’s aggressive militarism, we have had the opportunity to watch whether attitudes toward the U.S.—and U.S. military force—would change, if circumstances changed. President Obama shared at least some of the assumptions of both the hard Left and foreign-policy realists, that the use of direct U.S. military force abroad, even with the best of intentions, often does more harm then good. Better, then, to “do no harm.”
This has been Barack Obama’s position on the Syrian Civil War, the key foreign-policy debate of our time. The president’s discomfort with military action against the Syrian regime seems deep and instinctual and oblivious to changing facts on the ground. When the debate over intervention began, around 5,000 Syrians had been killed. Now it’s close to 500,000. Yet, Obama’s basic orientation toward the Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad has remained unchanged. This suggests that Obama, like many others who oppose U.S. intervention against Assad, is doing so on “principled” or, to put it differently, ideological grounds.
The Logic Games section forces test takers to master a new type of thinking—and that knowledge is not cheap.
As soon as I told my friends and family about my plans to take the LSAT, the standardized law-school admissions test, people started warning me about one particular set of questions. Analytical Reasoning, or “Logic Games,” is a section that tests your ability to order and group information. The questions are written to seem accessible and unintimidating—they ask you to analyze combinations of ice-cream flavors or animals in a zoo—but, every year, they stop tens of thousands of applicants from attending top law schools.
To get into one of the best law schools in the United States (known as the “Top 14”), you generally need an LSAT score of 165 or higher, out of 180. The first time I took a practice Logic Games section, with no preparation, I only got one of the 24 questions right. That meant that, before I even started any of the other sections, I had a 160. That score wasn’t going to get me into a top school.
Science says lasting relationships come down to—you guessed it—kindness and generosity.
Every day in June, the most popular wedding month of the year, about 13,000 American couples will say “I do,” committing to a lifelong relationship that will be full of friendship, joy, and love that will carry them forward to their final days on this earth.
Except, of course, it doesn’t work out that way for most people. The majority of marriages fail, either ending in divorce and separation or devolving into bitterness and dysfunction. Of all the people who get married, only three in ten remain in healthy, happy marriages, as psychologist Ty Tashiro points out in his book The Science of Happily Ever After, which was published earlier this year.
Social scientists first started studying marriages by observing them in action in the 1970s in response to a crisis: Married couples were divorcing at unprecedented rates. Worried about the impact these divorces would have on the children of the broken marriages, psychologists decided to cast their scientific net on couples, bringing them into the lab to observe them and determine what the ingredients of a healthy, lasting relationship were. Was each unhappy family unhappy in its own way, as Tolstoy claimed, or did the miserable marriages all share something toxic in common?
The 2016 race has turned the battle of the sexes into an all-out war.
Even before the vulgar debut of the phrase “locker-room talk,” or the front-page accounts of sexual assault on airplanes, or the national debate over what constitutes an improper amount of pageant-winner weight gain, there has been much that’s split American men and women apart this year when it comes to electing a president.
To some degree, this was inevitable. The 2012 election saw a historic 20-point gap between the sexes as it concerned support for President Obama and former Governor Mitt Romney. But what makes this year’s election different—beyond the unimaginably lewd headlines and pervasive sense of doom—is the fact that Trump and Clinton have divided not just men and women, but men and women who are married to each other.
Tristan Harris believes Silicon Valley is addicting us to our phones. He’s determined to make it stop.
On a recent evening in San Francisco, Tristan Harris, a former product philosopher at Google, took a name tag from a man in pajamas called “Honey Bear” and wrote down his pseudonym for the night: “Presence.”
Harris had just arrived at Unplug SF, a “digital detox experiment” held in honor of the National Day of Unplugging, and the organizers had banned real names. Also outlawed: clocks, “w-talk” (work talk), and “WMDs” (the planners’ loaded shorthand for wireless mobile devices). Harris, a slight 32-year-old with copper hair and a tidy beard, surrendered his iPhone, a device he considers so addictive that he’s called it “a slot machine in my pocket.” He keeps the background set to an image of Scrabble tiles spelling out the words face down, a reminder of the device’s optimal position.
More readers are building on the projection argument that Fallows outlined in Time Capsule #142: “that ‘projection,’ in the psychological sense, is the default explanation for anything Donald Trump says or does”—that he accuses people of sins that are far more his own. Reader Tom contrasts Trump’s approach with recent history:
I may be saying the same thing in a different way, but Mr Trump has been engaging in what I’ve thought of as a new style of political attack.
“Rovian politics,” named after Karl Rove, was taking on your opponent’s strengths and attacking them head on to negate their advantage (e.g. “Swiftboating” John Kerry to attack his war record and turn a strength into a weakness).
In “Trumpian politics” you take your weaknesses, exaggerate them, and accuse your opponent of possessing that weakness. Is womanizing a potential weakness of yours? Accuse your opponent of being much worse than you were, making yourself look good (at least in your own mind) by comparison. Temperament? Accuse your opponent of being completely unstable to divert attention. Old enough to be the oldest person ever elected to a first term? Accuse your opponent of being weak and sickly.
By exaggerating your weaknesses and targeting your opponent with the same, you not only attack them with something they consider important but you potentially make yourself look good by comparison.
On the morning on Tuesday, September 20, just after 9:01 a.m. local time, two pilots ejected from a U.S. Air Force training flight above California’s Sutter Buttes, just north of Sacramento. One of them, Lt. Col. Ira S. Eadie, died; the other, whose name has not been released, is recovering. Though tragic, crashes during training flights are perhaps unavoidable. What’s more surprising is that these pilots were flying a U-2 spy plane, an iconic aircraft first built in 1955.
Most civilians associate the U-2 with the Cold War, not the War on Terror. Designed to fly at 70,000 feet, the glider-like U-2 allowed the United States to conduct aerial reconnaissance of the Soviet Union even before the satellite era. Its most famous moments came in 1960, when Soviet authorities downed and captured pilot Francis Gary Powers—a story Hollywood dramatized in last year’s Bridge of Spies—and in 1962, when the images it collected over Cuba set off the Cuban Missile Crisis. Why, in an era of drones and reconnaissance satellites, is the U.S. Air Force still using Eisenhower-era planes?
Many more of your smart emails are coming in over Trump and what he means for the election, the GOP, and the country. The first one comes from reader Reid, who describes a familiar outlook that is more relevant than ever, as Trump’s campaign continues to implode while taking the Republicans down with him. (Sarah Palin’s “going rogue” in 2008 seems quaint by comparison.) Here’s Reid:
The fact that the GOP isn’t pushing back on Trump’s attack on the election is appalling and reprehensible to me. McConnell’s silence stands out in particular. The GOP is dead, and the GOP is certainly dead to me (and that is not a good thing for our country).
I once had a theory: People like Christie, Pence, McConnell, and Ryan, by supporting Trump, would place them in position to prevent Trump from doing stupid things if he were elected. The reasoning here is: If they openly opposed and antagonized Trump, there would be zero chance that Trump would cooperate with them. (They probably had a 10 percent chance of controlling him or getting him to cooperate if he viewed them as loyal supporters.) These justifications seem somewhat compelling to me, even though they are also a bit dubious and awfully close to easy rationalizations that mask personal ambition and realpolitik, because they put the country first.
But none of these justifications seem valid now (if they ever were valid). Trump is aggressively attacking the validity of the election and decrying the lack of support from the GOP—which turns his supporters against the GOP. McConnell or Ryan’s pushback will carry little weight with Trump supporters. It also seems clear that Trump views Ryan (at least) as disloyal. That basically means Ryan has almost no chance of working effectively with Trump.
There’s one other possibility that comes to mind to justify their continued support: If they renounce Trump now, I’m thinking that just feeds the Trump’s narrative the the GOP wasn’t supporting him sufficiently all along. Still, even if this is true, as I mentioned earlier, I’m not sure the GOP is in an effective position to push back against Trump’s refusal to accept the election results.
Earlier this year, a part of me felt the Republicans should have abandoned their party, leaving Trump behind and other Republicans who wanted to support him—while forming a new party. This move could rid themselves of everything bad about the party (e.g., racism) and with Trump as the figurehead, creating a blank slate to build a new party, one that would could appeal to minorities and also working- and middle-class voters. It was an opportunity with the long game in mind. The pain in the short term would be intensely painful (e.g., losing the White House, maybe even losing seats Congress). But it’s not like the route they've chosen will avoid any of those things either!
Instead, the GOP leadership has lost all credibility in the process. I don’t and won’t see them as credible leaders and re-builders of the party. I feel like they’re in a worse position than if they tried to create a new party. And it would be even worse still if Trump wins.