Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Now, Don’t Guess
The smallish corner of the internet I pay attention to is abuzz with the Asker vs. Guesser question. I first saw reference to it by Jon Chait, who cites Oliver Burkeman’s pick up of a “cult status” achieving comment by Andrea Donderi (AKA “tangerine”). Burkeman writes,
We are raised, the theory runs, in one of two cultures. In Ask culture, people grow up believing they can ask for anything – a favour, a pay rise– fully realising the answer may be no. In Guess culture, by contrast, you avoid “putting a request into words unless you’re pretty sure the answer will be yes… A key skill is putting out delicate feelers. If you do this with enough subtlety, you won’t have to make the request directly; you’ll get an offer. Even then, the offer may be genuine or pro forma; it takes yet more skill and delicacy to discern whether you should accept.
[W]hen an Asker meets a Guesser, unpleasantness results. An Asker won’t think it’s rude to request two weeks in your spare room, but a Guess culture person will hear it as presumptuous and resent the agony involved in saying no. Your boss, asking for a project to be finished early, may be an overdemanding boor – or just an Asker, who’s assuming you might decline. If you’re a Guesser, you’ll hear it as an expectation. This is a spectrum, not a dichotomy, and it explains cross-cultural awkwardnesses, too: Brits and Americans get discombobulated doing business in Japan, because it’s a Guess culture, yet experience Russians as rude, because they’re diehard Askers.
Now we learn that Chait thinks Askers are right and Guessers wrong. Tyler Cowen is an “[A]sker when it comes to information, but a [G]uesser when it comes to making demands.” And Kevin Drum is an Asker wannabe Guesser.
The problem with assuming one way is better than another is that it ignores the obvious temporal heterogeneity in preferences. The “requester” (whether of Asker or Guesser type) is in more in need of a “yes” (or “no”) response from the “requestee” (again, of either type) at some times than others. Likewise, a requestee is more likely to say “yes” (or “no”) at some times than at others. The more you care about the outcome the more important it is to know your counterpart and time your interaction accordingly. It also matters if your counterpart is unique or if your request can be satisfied by many others.
Therefore, it is perfectly sensible to be an Asker for some things at some times and a Guesser for other things (or even the same things) at another. Cowen’s response most embodies this principle and Chait’s lack of flexibility is the antithesis.
As for me, I’m the opposite of Drum and tend toward the Asker type but think being a Guesser is sometimes better. Basically, I can be impulsive and blunt. So, I’m learning to be more of a Guesser when situations warrant it.
Levels of Evidence
I hate to say it, but the more I experience the health care system the more I recognize how much health care is not worth its price. I’m not saying all medical care is useless. Far from it. Some things are well understood, and some cures are effective and life-saving. I’m just saying the limitations of medical science and medical practice are larger than most realize or admit, including my younger self.
This sentiment was expressed clearly in Christie Aschwanden’s recent piece in Miller-McCune (h/t Kaiser Health News).
A surprising number of medical practices have never been rigorously tested to find out if they really work. Even where evidence points to the most effective treatment for a particular condition, the information is not always put into practice. “The First National Report Card on Quality of Health Care in America,” published by the Rand Corporation in 2006, found that, overall, Americans received only about half of the care recommended by national guidelines.
Certainly we can learn more with research of the right type. And we should do more about aligning financial incentives with good practice and the following of effective guidelines. Naturally, there is the potential (but not a certainty) that more funding for comparative effectiveness research can help. Aschwanden:
A $1.1 billion provision in the federal stimulus package [will provide] funds for comparative effectiveness research to find the most effective treatments for common conditions. But these efforts are bound to face resistance when they challenge existing beliefs. … [N]ew evidence often meets with dismay or even outrage when it shifts recommendations away from popular practices or debunks widely held beliefs.
Aschwanden’s piece goes on to describe how to present evidence to convince practitioners and the public to change firmly held but incorrect beliefs. There’s a mistaken idea that the truth will simply be accepted, when in fact people are generally unable to shed their false mental models. “How do you convince doctors and patients to dump established, well-loved interventions when evidence shows they don’t actually improve health?” she asks.
Aschwanden’s solution is to emphasize the narrative, even the argument by analogy, not the cold, hard facts. This gets to the issue of what most people take as evidence. People like stories, not numbers. It isn’t the facts they need updated so much as their mental model. Shifting belief is less about marshaling the latest research and more about appealing to intuition.
Proponents of comparative effectiveness research look for answers in large-scale trials, but these studies hinge on statistics about large groups of people. Such number crunching rarely has the power of personal anecdote.
That’s all fine, as far as it goes, but it misses a key point. We do need the studies and evidence first. Only then can we figure out how to present empirical findings in a convincing way. But what constitutes scientific evidence? Must comparative effectiveness research necessarily be conducted by clinical trial? A randomized trial can produce the most convincing evidence, but it isn’t always practical or possible (recall my debate with Robin Hanson on this point).
Observational studies using sound methods that exploit non-experimental randomness can provide high quality evidence. This fact and the associated technique (instrumental variables) are understood by many economists, some physicians, and too few epidemiologists (I eagerly await the day when I’m convinced otherwise). Results from such studies can influence thinking and practice. The American Heart Association and American Stroke Association consider a collection of nonradnomized studies to be an equivalently convincing source of evidence as a single randomized trial, though less convincing than data from multiple randomized trials, which is a sensible position (see figure below from their guidelines).
Unfortunately, far too much thinking in medicine and in the rest of our lives is based on the lowest form of evidence, if any. The consensus opinion of experts may be better than nothing but not necessarily. The history of medicine (and most human endeavors) has shown time and again that opinion, even consensus opinion, is often wrong, sometimes tragically so. Moreover, far too often consensus or even one’s own opinion is allowed to override more objective forms of evidence. That’s the psychological problem Aschwanden addressed and may be the most important fact of all.
Notes on a Nobelist, Part III: Kahneman on Framing
This is the third post in a three-post series that summarizes Daniel Kahneman’s Nobel lecture as printed in The American Economic Review in December 2003 (full free version). The first post was on heuristics of judgement and the second was on choice with risk. This post is about framing effects. Most of what follows is a paraphrasing of Kahneman’s words. Comments that are more fully my own are [in brackets].
The framing effect is observed when different but informationally (factually) equivalent presentations lead to different outcomes. The effect is achieved by alteration of the salience of different characteristics. [This idea has become well-known through intense media focus on political and issue polls and how their outcomes differ by phrasing.]
A nice example is suggested by Thomas Schelling in his book Choice and Consequence: Are you morally offended by tax deductions? I suspect not. What do you think of a tax policy that allows a larger reduction in taxes for the rich than the poor? Abhorrent, no? In fact, that’s exactly the result of tax deductions. This is framing at work.
Kahnmen explains the principle of framing as “the passive acceptance of the formulation given.” This leads to the apparent preference of the default option. For instance, enrollment of organ donation programs is substantially higher when individuals are assigned to it and need to opt out as opposed to excluded unless they opt in. Clearly framing is inconsistent with assumptions of rationality.
Notes on a Nobelist, Part II: Kahneman on Choice with Risk
This post is short. Use the balance of your time to read something else. Can’t find anything? Try one of my favorite sources.
This is the second post in a three-post series that summarizes Daniel Kahneman’s Nobel lecture as printed in The American Economic Review in December 2003 (full free version). The first post was on heuristics of judgement and a subsequent post will be on framing effects. This post is about models of choice in the presence of risk. As before, my comments are [in brackets] (actually, there is only one comment).
We only need to consult our own experience to verify that perception is reference-dependent. A bath of 80°F will feel warm relative to a 60°F one and cool relative to a 100°F one. The same is true about our satisfaction with respect to different states of wealth. That is, we can be risk averse with respect to gains while loss averse with respect to loss. It matters a great deal what the starting point (the reference point) is.
Kahneman goes to great length in his article to stress that prior work that assumed reference-independence is a poor model of individual behavior. A main idea of his “prospect theory” is that the degree to which we value a unit of wealth depends on our initial endowment. Studies have found that the selling price an individual would assign to a good is often a factor of two higher than the buying price he would assign. That is, the value assigned to the good depends on whether or not you own it (the “endowment effect”).
Such reference-dependent decision making helps promote the maintenance of the status quo as the disadvantages of alternatives loom larger than advantages. [Political implications...]
Notes on a Nobelist, Part I: Kahneman on Heuristics of Judgement
I’ve been reading some behavior economics literature. I started with the excellent overviews by Camerer and Camerer and Lowenstein and then moved on to Daniel Kahneman’s Nobel lecture. For his work in behavioral economics Kahneman shared the Nobel prize in economics in 2002 with Vernon Smith. A revised version of Kahneman’s Nobel lecture was printed in The American Economic Review in December 2003 (full free version). Kahneman’s lecture (paper) reviews the three lines of his research: (1) heuristics of judgement, (2) models of choice under risk, and (3) framing effects. In this and two subsequent posts I provide my notes from my reading of the paper.
This first post is on (1) heuristics of judgement. Naturally, the second post will be on (2) models of choice under risk, and the third post will be on (3) framing effects. Most of what follows is a paraphrasing of Kahneman’s words. Comments that are more fully my own are [in brackets].
There are two modes of thought: reasoning and intuition. Reasoning may lead to more rational decisions while intuition is more likely to lead to faulty judgements. This is illustrated by a simple puzzle credited to Shane Frederick. “A bat and a ball cost $1.10 in total. The bat costs $1 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost?” Likely more than half of individuals can solve this puzzle with some moments of thought. Yet most provide an incorrect answer of “10 cents” relying on intuition alone.
A useful distinction between reasoning and intuition is the degree of effort. Reasoning requires effort and diverts the mind from other activities, forcing it to take shortcuts that would not be taken if not distracted by mental effort. Intuition requires little effort. One can operate a car intuitively (without much mental effort) and therefore conduct a conversation requiring substantial mental effort at the same time. [Though in such a case one may operate the car perfectly but navigate it poorly (missing turns, etc.).]
Intuition is akin to perception: it is immediately accessible and requires no effort. It generates impressions, many implicit, non-voluntary, and not expressed, of the attributes of objects and ideas. More reasoned judgement may be built upon impressions and are explicit and intentional. This hypothesis of intuition–that it is perception-like–motivates a focus on analogies from perception. Tricks of perception are at least metaphors of intuitive errors. The immediate accessibility (or “intuitive grasp”) of the properties of an object upon seeing it bear a cognitive resemblance to our readily intuited thoughts about an idea upon encountering it. The representation of a prototype of an object [e.g. an apple] is highly accessible, [as is our intuition about an idea, choice, puzzle, or decision (the source of bias?)]. The term natural assessments applies to the attributes immediately brought to mind without intention or effort. The natural assessment of “good” or “bad” plays a key role in our judgements and is one for which special brain circuitry exists.
Accessibility of properties about an object, situation, or thought is a continuum, varies by individual, and can be altered with training. A chess master has immediate access to the attributes of a configuration of chess pieces that a novice does not perceive even with intense effort. Salience plays a role in relative accessibility of attributes. Context, grammar, and various forms of presentation influence salience. The degree of accessibility of various thoughts differ upon hearing each of the sentences “Team A beat team B” and “Team B lost to team A” even though they are logically equivalent. Sex sells even when it has nothing to do with the product with which it is associated.
Heuristics of judgement are achieved by an operation of attribute substitution, a form of intuitive thinking in which readily accessible attributes (so called heuristic attributes) of an object are used as proxies for the less accessible attributes (so called target attributes) relevant to a rational decision. Optical illusions take advantage of perceptual attribute substitution. Attribute substitution is a pervasive shortcut and the list of heuristic attributes identified is long, reviewed by Kahneman in his paper, but beyond the scope of this post.
Your Brain on Context
Serendipitously I came upon the same psychological demonstration twice in a ten-day span. It appears in The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell and is discussed by Paul Bloom in Yale’s intro psych course (which I reviewed). If you haven’t read Gladwell’s book or taken an intro psych course perhaps you have not seen this demonstration. It illustrates the powerful role of context in human cognition. The demo follows.
I will present the same puzzle twice. After you read the first version, write down your first, intuitive answer without thinking it over a great deal. Only then go on to the second version and do the same. Don’t cheat and read ahead or you’ll ruin the whole exercise for yourself. It is more rewarding to do this as instructed.
Version 1. Each of the cards shown below have a letter, “B” or “M”, on one side and a positive integer on the other. As shown below, you can only see one side of each card. The cards are alleged to have the property that any card with a “B” on one side has a number greater than or equal to 21 on the other. Which cards must be turned over to verify this property.
Remember, don’t think too long. Just write down your hunch using your intuition. If you’ve written down your answer go on to version 2.
Version 2. You’re a bartender serving only milk and beer. The cards shown above correspond to four people at your bar (each card represents one person). Letters correspond to what they’re drinking and numbers to their ages. “B” stands for “beer” and “M” stand for “milk.” The minimum legal drinking age is 21. Anyone drinking beer (”B”) must be 21 years old or older. Which cards must be turned over to verify compliance with the law?
Now write down your answer to version 2 before reading further. No cheating!
The correct answer in both cases is that you need to flip the card marked “B” and the one with the number 20. Why? Because you have to verify that every card with a “B” (a person drinking beer) has a number (age) of at least 21. So you have to check that the card marked “B” (person drinking beer) has a number (age) on the other side no smaller than 21. Also, you have to check that the card (person) with the number (age) 20 does not have a “B” (is not drinking beer).
There is no point in flipping the card marked “M” because there is no rule (law) pertaining to “M”. It doesn’t matter what number is on the back of the “M” card. There is no need to flip the card with the number 25 because it doesn’t matter what letter (drink) is associated with it. It would not be out of compliance with the rule (law) in either case.
Did you get the answer right after reading version 1? What about after reading version 2? More people get version 1 wrong than version 2. That is, many people who find version 1 intuitively difficult find version 2 much easier. Why?
The answer is context. The only difference between the two versions is the story told. The raw data and task are the same. This illustrates that context is extremely important for problem solving. At least in the U.S., we’re accustomed to minimum drinking age laws. When the puzzle is described in that context it is easier to comprehend. Our mind manipulates the familiar ideas more easily even though it is the same manipulation required in both versions. That’s interesting.
What is also interesting is that this property of cognition–that context matters–is not always obvious to us. That’s typical of many of the ways in which our perception and thoughts are shaped by the nature of our minds. We are usually not aware of how or why we perceive and think what we do. We go about our day with the notion that we’re not missing anything important, that our arguments are free of bias, that we are masters of our reason. Context is just one of many elements of our environment and background that shape our perception and thought. Take a problem out of a familiar context and it becomes much harder. We’re more likely to get it wrong.
In fact, we’re wrong more often than we think we are, but we don’t notice. Only in the context of a psychological demonstration is the power of context clearly revealed.
Yale’s Psych 110: Your Brain on Bloom
Psych 110, Introduction to Psychology, was the third Open Yale Course I listened to by podcast (others reviewed in posts listed under the Yale tag). In it, Professor Paul Bloom surveys the broad field of psychology, including topics such as what infants know, the meaning of dreams, gender differences in sexual desire, non-human primate language acquisition, and other areas of human perception, memory, cognition, feelings, decision-making, and behavior.
To my mind, untrained in psychology, the course was a reasonably complete survey. As such, no topic received a great deal of attention. To some extent, just skimming the surface of so many interesting questions and topics was a bit unsatisfactory. But that is the nature of an intro, survey course.
The instructor, Bloom, was a pleasure to listen to. A few of the lectures were given by his Yale colleagues and I missed Bloom in each one. He is a gifted lecturer, witty, very articulate, and with a command of language better than most. He ended each topic with a solicitation of questions. In response to questions he could not necessarily anticipate he almost always had a ready and nuanced answer, delivered in well-formed paragraphs. As someone who has spoken before a room full of students I know that is no easy task!
Of the Yale courses I’ve listened to by podcast, this is the first that didn’t work well aurally. First, it is clear that only some of the course content was delivered by lecture, the rest through readings, which I did not have (nor would I have read if I had them). Second, about 20% of the content of each class was provided by in-class video, none of which was included in the podcast (copyright issues (?)). Finally, many topics in psychology are illuminated by demonstrations that rely on the visual: comparing two images, for example. I could see none of those, though likely they’re available on the video downloads.
Given all of that, I missed some of what probably made the course a lot of fun. The up-side is that the audio podcasts are shorter than those of other courses (all under one hour). Plus there are only 20 classes. So, relative to the previous Yale courses I listened through, this was a brief one.
In conclusion, Yale’s Psych 110 is a good way to survey psychology by podcast. From it I certainly learned some things about basic psychology and enjoyed my time doing so. But for the reasons explained above, as a podcast it falls short of the quality of the Yale econ courses I listened to previously (Econ 159 and Econ 252). If you missed intro psych in college, give it a try. If you’re looking for truly excellent podcast material though this is not the place to start.
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