Yesterday I posted a very unscientific survey asking researchers to describe how failed replications changed their subjective estimates of effect sizes. The main survey asked for “ballpark estimates” of effect sizes, but an alternative interactive version allowed researchers to also report their uncertainty by specifying both the mean and variance of their posterior distributions. Thanks to everyone who participated. I won’t be analyzing any new data after this, but it’s never too late to publicly share your estimates!
Here are the questions.
Question 1. A 2009 experiment with 50 subjects (25 per cell) is published in Psych Science. The experiment does not require any special equipment other than a questionnaire. It is not pre-registered. The results show an effect size of d=0.5. Let’s define the true effect size to be the average effect size of an infinite number of replications that the original experimenter would deem “reasonably exact” in advance. Based on this information alone, what is your ballpark subjective estimate of the true effect size?
Question 2. What if the experiment had been pre-registered?
Question 3. Assume again that the experiment was not pre-registered. Now imagine that a pre-registered replication attempt with the same sample size estimated the effect size to be d=0.0. At the time of pre-registration, the original experimenter deemed it “reasonably exact”. Based on this replication and the original experiment, what is your ballpark subjective estimate of the true effect size?
Question 4. What if the replication attempt had 300 subjects per cell?
Here are the results.
Keeping in mind all the caveats about sampling bias and other issues, here are a few observations:
The original study reported an effect size of d=0.5, but the results for Question 1 tell us that most researchers believed the true effect size was closer to d=0.2, which is roughly in line with my own estimate. Had I allowed researchers to state their uncertainty, I suspect that many would find it quite possible that even the sign of the effect was wrong. This isn’t really surprising to me, but I think we should take a moment to reflect on what this means. When a scientist reports a result, most other researchers believe it is massively overstated. I know that there are still some researchers who want little or no changes to the status quo, but I’d like to live in a world where people actually believe the claims that scientists make. That’s why I’m a strong supporter of all the attempts to fundamentallychangehow scientists do research.
If you want people to have more confidence in your findings, pre-registration can make a big difference.
While it’s not apparent from the plot, almost all respondents reduced their effect size estimate upon hearing about failed replications (Question 3 and 4 compared to Question 1).
As some have pointed out, the original experiment falls a bit short of statistical significance. This was an oversight, as I forgot to check the p-value after changing some of the values. I don’t think this is a huge deal, since posterior estimates shouldn’t really depend too much on whether the results cross an arbitrary threshold. But apologies for the error.
As of yesterday I thought the debate about replication in psychology was converging on consensus in at least one respect. While there was still some disagreement about tone, basicallyeveryone agreed that there was value in failed replications. But then this morning, Jason Mitchell posted this essay, in which he describes his belief that failed replication attempts can contain errors and therefore “cannot contribute to a cumulative understanding of scientific phenomena”. It’s hard to know where to begin when someone comes from a worldview so different from one’s own. Since there’s clearly a communication problem here, I’ll just give two examples to illustrate how I think about science.
Example 1. A rigorous lab conducts an experiment using a measurement device that requires special care. The effect size is d=0.5. Later, a different lab with no experience using the device tries to quickly replicate the experiment and computes an effect size of d=0.0.
Example 2. A small sample experiment in a field with a history of p-hacking shows an effect size of d=0.5. Another lab tries to replicate the study with a much larger sample and computes an effect size of d=0.0.
In both cases, I’d have subjective beliefs about the true effect size. For the first example, my posterior distribution might peak around d=0.4. For the second example, my posterior distribution might peak around d=0.1. In both cases, the replication would influence my posterior, but to varying degrees. In the first example, it would cause a small shift. In the second, it would cause a big shift. Reasonable people can disagree on the exact positions of the posteriors, but basically everyone ought to agree that our posteriors should incrementally adjust as we acquire new information, and that the size of these shifts should depend on a variety of factors, including the possibility of errors in either the original experiment or in the replication attempt. Maybe it’s because I’m stuck in a worldview, but none of this even seems very hard to understand.
Jason Mitchell sees things differently. For him, all failed replications contain “no meaningful evidentiary value” and “do not constitute scientific output”. I don’t doubt the sincerity of his beliefs, but I suspect that most scientists and nonscientists alike will find these assertions to be pretty bizarre. NHST isn’t the only thing causing the crisis in psychology, but it’s pretty clear that this is what happens when people get too immersed in it.
Next week I’m going to start a new job as a data scientist at Twitter and I am thrilled. Aside from Google search, no other website has had a more positive impact on my life than Twitter. Twitter is just so much fun, and I have learned so much from it.
Because my experience has been so good, it saddens me to hear that some people don’t really “get” Twitter. Some people who try it feel frustrated and stop using it. Others use it occasionally but don’t really see what all the fuss is about.
I want to share my approach to using Twitter so that others can try. There are probably other ways to enjoy it, but this approach has worked well for me:
I don’t necessarily follow my friends, and I don’t expect them to follow me. I use Twitter for a limited set of interests, and not all of my friends tweet about those interests.
I generally don’t follow organizations. They tend to tweet too much and their content is often too promotional.
Instead, I follow opinionated people who tweet about a small set of topics that I’m interested in.
I make sure that my tweet stream is slow enough that I can read every tweet. I do this by limiting the number of people I follow and by making sure that I don’t follow people who tweet too much, even if they have good content.
That’s it. Follow opinionated strangers who tweet about topics you are interested in. Maybe you have a different approach that works well for you. But if you are still trying to figure out the incredible appeal of Twitter, you might want to give my approach a shot.
National unemployment is high, but business is booming in some states. Vermont needs teachers. Nevada needs bartenders. North Dakota needs truck drivers and just about everything else.
Despite these opportunities, Americans aren’t moving much and unemployment remains high. One reason for this is that moving can be expensive and disruptive, especially for those with families and roots in their communities. But another reason may just be lack of awareness about the opportunities in other states. That’s why I have made a new website: www.ismyjobinanotherstate.com. Enter your job skills, and the website will provide an interactive map showing where you are most in demand.
States are ranked by their ratio of job postings to unemployment. This is a pretty good metric, but it isn’t perfect. To understand why, imagine two states with the same posting/unemployed ratio for a particular job. If you are trained for the job, you might have better luck applying in a state where the unemployed population is either untrained or unwilling to take that type of job, even though the two states have the same ratio. There also may be differences across states in the use of Indeed.com. Still, I think my results have reasonably good face validity, and the results for many jobs are close to what you would except. If you average across jobs, you get something pretty close to an independently created measure called the “Opportunity Index”.