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Following the Hot Hand of Science

Anyone vaguely familiar with basketball has heard of the ‘hot hand’ phenomenon. Someone on the team gets a hot shooting streak going, they can’t seem to miss, and their teammates start looking to get the hot-handed player the ball. I played backyard hoops a lot in my youth, and there were (very few) times when it happened to me; every shot I threw up seemed to go in – briefly.

Well, academics got wind of this long ago also, and decided to investigate whether there was anything to it. Yea, sure, players talk about experiencing it, or seeing it, but it could easily be just a matter of perception, something that would disappear into the ether once subjected to hard-nosed observation and statistical analysis.

The canonical paper to do this analysis was published in 1985 in Cognitive Psychology, authored by Gilovich, Tallone and Tversky. The last of this trio, Amos Tversky, was a sufficiently notable scholar that young economists like me were told to read some of his work back in the day. He died young, age 59, in 1996, six years before his frequent co-researcher, Daniel Kahnemann, was awarded the Nobel Prize in Economics. The work the Nobel committee cited in awarding the prize to Kahnemann was mostly done with Tversky, so there is little doubt Tversky would have shared the prize had he lived long enough, but Nobels are, by rule, not given to the dead.

Now, as a research question, looking for a basketball hot hand is in many ways ideal: the trio used data on shots made and missed by players in the NBA, which tracks such data very carefully, and beyond that, they did their own controlled experiment, putting the Cornell basketball teams to work taking shots, and recording the results. Good data is everything in social science, and the data doesn’t get much better than that. Well, bear with me here, this is most of the Abstract of that 1985 paper:

“Basketball players and fans alike tend to believe that a player’s chance of hitting a shot are greater following a hit than following a miss on the previous shot. However, detailed analyses of the shooting records of the Philadelphia 76ers provided no evidence for a positive correlation between the outcomes of successive shots. The same conclusions emerged from free-throw records of the Boston Celtics, and from a controlled shooting experiment with the men and women of Cornell’s varsity teams. The outcomes of previous shots influenced Cornell players’ predictions but not their performance. The belief in the hot hand and the “detection” of streaks in random sequences is attributed to a general misconception of chance according to which even short random sequences are thought to be highly representative of their generating process.”

That is, a player who hits a shot expects he is likely to hit the next one, too. When he does, he files this away as ‘having a hot hand’, but the actual frequency with which he hits the second shot is not actually higher than when he had missed his previous shot. Standard ‘cognitive bias’ causes the player – and fans – to see it that way, that’s all. They remember when the second shot is made more than they remember it being missed.

Damn scientists are always messing with our hopes and dreams, right? No Easter Bunny, no extra-terrestrials in Mississauga, and no hot hand. Is nothing sacred?  Other researchers went looking for evidence of a hot hand over the ensuing years, but it became known in academic circles as ‘the hot hand fallacy’, the general consensus being that it did not exist in the real world of basketball.

33 years later

But wait, it’s now 2018 and a paper by Miller and Sanjurjo appears in Econometrica, the premier journal for economic analysis involving probability and/or statistics. It’s title is “Surprised by the hot-hand fallacy? A truth in the law of small numbers”

Here’s some of what their Abstract says:

We prove that a subtle but substantial bias exists in a common measure of the conditional dependence of present outcomes on streaks of past outcomes in sequential data…. We observe that the canonical study [that is, Gilovich, Tallone and Tversky] in the influential hot hand fallacy literature, along with replications, are vulnerable to the bias. Upon correcting for the bias, we find that the longstanding conclusions of the canonical study are reversed.

It took over 30 years for two economists to figure out that ‘the canonical study’ of the hot hand did its ciphering wrong, and that once this is corrected, it’s findings are not just no longer true, they are reversed. The data collected in 1985 do provide evidence of the existence of a hot hand.

Think about this. In 1985 some very clever academics showed there was no such thing as a hot hand in the real world of basketball, and the academics who peer-reviewed their work agreed with them. Thirty-plus years later, some other clever academics realized that first set had gotten something wrong, and that fixing it reversed the previous findings – and the academics who peer-reviewed their work agreed with them.

Ain’t social science wonderful? A question for which there is excellent data, a situation rarer than hen’s teeth in social science, is investigated and a conclusive answer arrived at, and thirty years later that answer is shown to be not just wrong but backwards.

No one did anything shady here. There was no messing with data, the 2018 guys used the same data used in 1985. A mistake, a subtle but significant mistake, accounts for the turnaround, and it took 33 years to discover it. One can hardly blame the 1985 researchers for not seeing the mistake, given that no one else did for such a long time.

The Lesson?

So, in case my point is not yet obvious, science is not a set of settled facts. Those do exist – sort of – but anyone who understands the process of science even a little understands that settled facts are settled only until they are overturned. And if that is true for such a clean research question as an investigation of a basketball hot hand, think about a more typical social science question in which two things are almost always true. One, the data is not at all what the researchers need, so they make do with what they can actually gather. Two, the right way to analyze that data – among endless possibilities – is a matter of disagreement among respectable social scientists. Following that kinda science will make you dizzy, my friends.

A teaser: think about this social scientific question. It is arguably of more importance than basketball shooting.

Does the availability of bricks-and-mortar adult entertainment establishments have a positive, negative, or no effect on the commission of sex crimes in the surrounding neighborhood?

Whaddya think is the right answer?

For extra credit: what kind of data would a researcher need to gather to answer that question?

Now that’s real (i.e., messy) social science.

Stay tuned, because a couple of economists set out to investigate the question above, and I’ll have a go at what they did and their findings in a future post.

 

 

Streaming service warnings, or…..huh?

A pervasive feature of the 21st century in North America is the deterioration in the quality of written language. Words with a quite precise meanings, like ‘phone’, ‘mail’, ‘email’ and ‘text’ get replaced with the coverall ‘reach out’.

I have access to exactly one internet streaming service, and it provides one of the more amusing examples of language abuse in the warnings it attaches to the previews of the films that one can watch on it.

Now, some of these warnings are easily understandable: Nudity, Sex, Violence – the Classics. Attaching any of these to the preview of a film is particularly useful to any teens or pre-teens who live in the household. I have experience from an earlier era. In my pre-teen years my good Polish Catholic parents subscribed to The Catholic Chronicle, a weekly paper put out by the local diocese. This featured a lot of boring stuff I never read, but it also provided ratings of all the movies that would be shown that week on the 5 or 6 TV stations available in our town. Those ratings told me which channel to put on when I stayed up past my parents’ bedtime on Friday or Saturday night. I was most grateful to the Bishop for this service, even though nothing on TV in that era was actually all that scandalous. It doesn’t really take much to get a 12-year-old boy excited.

However, contemporary warning words beyond that Big Three are rather more mysterious to me.

One warning is Language. Not Profanity, not Cussin’, not even Bad Language, just – Language. That seems to suggest that the characters in the film are going to talk, but there is also another warning of Pervasive Language. I suppose it is useful for some people to know there will be a lot of talking, so they should pause the stream if they have to go to the bathroom.

There is also a warning for Smoking, which I presume is due to our enlightened age realizing that all it takes is for some young’n to see someone smoking in a film to provoke them to go out and steal some smokes and try it themselves.

However, there is also a distinct warning about Historical Smoking. Clearly this would be attached to a film set in the past in which people smoke. What is not clear to me is whether the distinction is made because seeing past smoking is more or less harmful than seeing current smoking. Whichever way it is, why is there not then a warning about Historical Nudity (Adam and Eve?) or Historical Violence (Conan the Barbarian?) or, really – Historical Sex; you know, before people knew how to do it right like we do.

Undoubtedly, the biggest mystery to me is when a film preview comes with this warning:

Some Thematic Elements

Whatever in the hell does that mean? I can’t even make a joke about it.

One might think that, whatever the environment, posting a warning whose meaning is unclear would be a terrible idea. Do we want Environment Canada putting out Alerts that say Something Might be Coming? [I admit, EnvCan’s Special Weather Statements are pretty close to that.]

However, here in the 21st century, when offence lurks around every corner, it may be that posting a warning on a film the meaning of which no one understands has value.

Consider this scenario – a subscriber phones up or texts the customer service dept of the service.

Subscriber: “Hey that movie had a blonde-haired woman chasing a blue aardvark around with a flyswatter, that was appalling, I had no idea me and the kids  would be exposed to that. What is wrong with you people?”

Customer Service: “Ah, but Madam, we did make it clear the movie contained Some Thematic Elements.”

Young, Rogan and the Cost of Principles

Came across an article in the Wall Street Journal last month headlined as:

Neil Young Will Return to Spotify After Two-Year Boycott Over Joe Rogan

Singer-songwriter says he had no choice but to return to streaming platform due to wider distribution of Rogan’s podcast

March 13, 2024 Gareth Vipers

For you non-WSJ subscribers who may have forgotten what this is all about, here’s a quote from the WSJ piece:

Young penned an open letter to his manager and label in 2022 asking them to remove his music from the platform, saying it was spreading fake information about Covid-19 vaccines through Rogan’s show.

The article explains that in fact, “…Young’s label legally has control over how and where his music is distributed…” but Vipers claims that they had reason to honor his request. The piece does not say if they actually did, and if they did not, then this would seem to have been a rather empty gesture on ol’ Neil’s part.

Anyway, the point of this piece was that Rogan had since 2022 made a very lucrative deal to have his podcast more widely streamed, including on Apple and Amazon, and in light of that, Young was going to start letting his musical recordings be distributed on Spotify again. [I am inferring from that piece of info that Warner Bros did indeed pull his stuff from Spotify in ’22.]

I am a fan of Young’s music. Hearing Cinnamon Girl blasting out of a pair of car speakers was one of the great thrills of my youth, and one of the few truly wonderful musical moments on the old Saturday Night Live show was when Young and Crazy Horse brought down the house with a searing version of Rockin’ in The Free World. The man was a serious rocker, and he wrote some great songs.

One of my favourite Neil Young moments was in 1988, when he put out an album titled This Note’s for You. It was a blast at other musicians who allow their music to be used to sell shit. One of my (admittedly costless to hold) convictions is that musicians (or actors or other performers) who have made serious money in their career and then allow their output or their selves to be used to sell shit – any shit – are putzes who I wouldn’t trust if I ever ran into them.

As one example, I was depressed a couple of years ago to hear the Who’s Eminence Front – one of their best recordings – being used to sell Nissans. From the movies we have Samuel L Jackson, Danny DeVito, Rob Lowe, Matthew McConaughey, Jennifer Garner and on and on….one sees them more often in ads than in movies.

[I would like to think there is a special place in hell for celebs who accept money to promote online gambling sites – Gretzky, McDavid, Matthews, Jamie Foxx, etc. But I’m sure there’s not.]

These people are not needy. I’m an economist, I get it, no one thinks they have enough money, but I happen to think there ought to be some things one will not do for more. And no, I am not saying that celebrities or people with more wealth than some specified number should be prohibited from selling other people’s shit. They all have a perfect right to do what they are doing. I’m really only saying I think less of them for doing it –  which troubles them not the least, I know.

So back to ol’ Neil. His original move to pull his music from Spotify had two characteristics. One, it harmed Spotify – maybe. Spotify operates a subscription model in which folks pay a monthly fee for the right to listen to music from its catalog, including Young’s. So, it would appear that Young’s move hurt Spotify only to the extent to which people cancelled their Spotify plans, either out of sympathy with Young, or simply because they would no longer be able to listen to his tunes on the platform. I don’t know if that happened (though I rather doubt it), but more important to me is the second characteristic, which is that Young paid a price himself for doing that. He lost his share of that revenue, too, and about that there is no doubt. To me, that speaks to a level of integrity in Young. I don’t mean to say I agree with Young’s apparent position that Rogan is evil. I’ve never listened to one of Rogan’s podcasts, and don’t know what was said on them that upset Young. My point is only that incurring a cost yourself over a principle signals integrity. Anyone can run around bashing others, imposing costs on others, people can do that just for amusement. Taking a hit yourself says something, it says you mean it. Similarly, Young’s apparent past refusal to let his music be used to sell shit cost him real $. Someone would surely have paid him to use his music to sell cinnamon or something, back in the day.

Of course, the corollary to all this is that Neil could have reacted to the recent news of the now-wider distribution of Rogan’s podcast by asking Warner Bros to pull his music from Amazon and Apple, too. That would be even more costly to Young, and would leave me even more impressed with his integrity and commitment. What he has actually done by, according to the article, allowing his music back on Spotify (along with leaving it on the other platforms) says to this observer that Young was not willing to pay that high a price for his principles.

And, to be clear, in ‘price’ I am not pointing only to the money he would lose from streaming payments. He’s a musician, composer and performer, and having people hear his music has been his life’s work. Losing that is a serious price to pay, even were no cash involved.

I judge Neil Young not, and I still thank him for putting out the This Note’s for You album and writing and recording Cinnamon Girl. I merely point out that everything has a price, and we all have to decide which prices we will pay and which we will not, and I continue to believe that those who pay a price to adhere to a principle deserve my respect, if not necessarily my agreement. And – those who have made millions, become famous and then go on to accept money to sell other people’s shit deserve my contempt.

Btw, if I’m right that Young’s original move in 2022 cost Spotify nothing, it raises another question: what was ol ‘Neil trying to accomplish? Topic for another post, perhaps.

 

Sci-fi in aid of Science

I was a pretty big fan of science fiction in my younger days, and still read some from time to time. I think Frank Herbert’s  Dune is a great novel (the sequels not so much), enjoyed reading works by Heinlein, Le Guin and Asimov.. 

One of the genre’s leading lights back then was Arthur C Clarke, who wrote the novel 2001: A Space Odyssey (in 1982) [not true, see below] on which the film was based. I was not a Clarke fan, don’t remember that I read any of his stuff. However, he made an interesting contribution to the culture beyond his books themselves, when he formulated three ‘laws’ regarding technology that have come to be known as Clarke’s Laws. He didn’t proclaim these all at once, and in any case it is the third law that is most cited, which so far as I can determine first appeared in a letter he wrote to Science in 1968. [If anyone has better info on the third law’s original appearance and antecedents I’d love to hear it.]

Clarke’s Third Law is: ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’

That strikes me – and many others, apparently – as a perceptive statement. Think of how someone living in 1682 anywhere in the world would regard television or radio. 

As with any perceptive and oft-repeated assertion,  this prompted others to lay down similar edicts, such as Grey’s Law: “Any sufficiently egregious incompetence is indistinguishable from malice.”

[I cannot trace Grey’s law back to anyone named Grey – if you can, let me know.]

Note that there is a difference, as Clarke’s law speaks to how something will be perceived, whereas Grey’s points at the consequences of incompetence vs malice. If you are denied a mortgage by a bank despite your stellar credit rating, the impact on you of that decision does not depend on whether it is attributable to the credit officer’s incompetence or dislike of you. 

On to Science, then, and what I will call Gelman’s Law (although Gelman himself does not refer to it that way). 

Most non-academics I know view academics and their research with a somewhat rosy glow. If someone with letters after their name writes something, and particularly if they write it in an academic journal, they believe it. 

It does nothing to increase my popularity with my friends to repeatedly tell them: it ain’t so. There is a lot of crappy (a technical academic term, I will elaborate in future posts) research being done, and a lot of crappy research being published, even in peer-reviewed journals. What is worse is that as far as I can tell, the credible research is almost never the stuff that gets written up in the media. Some version of Gresham’s Law [‘bad money drives out good money’] seems to be at work here. 

A blog that I read regularly is titled Statistical Modeling, Causal Inference and Social Science (gripping title, eh?), written by Andrew Gelman, a Political Science and Stats prof at Columbia U. I recommend it to you, but warn that you better have your geek hard-hat on for many of the posts. 

Although I often disagree with Gelman, he generally writes well and I have learned tons from his blog. One of the things that has endeared it to me is his ongoing campaign against academic fraud and incompetent research. 

He has formulated a Law of his own, which he modestly attributes to Clarke, but which I will here dub Gelman’s Third Law: 

“Any sufficiently crappy research is indistinguishable from fraud.”

I think this law combines the insights of Clarke’s and Grey’s. The consequences of believing the results from crappy research do not differ from the consequences of believing the results from fraudulent research, as with Grey. However, it is also true that there is no reason to see the two things as different. If you are so incompetent at research as to produce crap, then you should be seen as a fraud, as with Clarke. 

I will be writing about crappy/fraudulent research often here, in hopes of convincing readers that they should be very skeptical the next time they read those deadly words: “Studies show…”

I will close this by referring you, for your reading pleasure, to a post by Gelman titled:    

 It’s bezzle time: The Dean of Engineering at the University of Nevada gets paid $372,127 a year and wrote a paper that’s so bad, you can’t believe it.

It’s a long post, but non-geeky, and quite illuminating. (Aside: I interviewed for an academic position at U of Nevada in Reno a hundred years ago. They put me up in a casino during my visit. Didn’t gamble, didn’t get a job offer.) You can read more about this intrepid and highly paid Dean here. His story is really making the (academic) rounds these days. 

You’re welcome, and stay tuned. I got a million of ‘em….

p.s. Discovered this since I wrote the above, but before posting. One of many reasons this stuff matters, from Nevada Today

University receives largest individual gift in its history to create the George W. Gillemot Aerospace Engineering Department 

The $36 million gift is the largest individual cash gift the University has received in its 149-year history 

Anyone care to bet on whether this Dean gets canned?

 Corrigendum: An alert reader has pointed out that Clarke’s novel was not written in 1982 – indeed, the film came out in 1968. In fact the 2001 film was based largely on one of Clarke’s short stories from 1951: The Sentinel. Clarke did write a novel called 2010: Odyssey Two, in 1982, and a not-so-successful movie was based on that, in 1984.