(p. A13) If economics is a science, it is more like biology than physics. Biologists try to understand the relationships in a complex system. That’s hard enough. But they can’t tell you what will happen with any precision to the population of a particular species of frog if rainfall goes up this year in a particular rain forest. They might not even be able to count the number of frogs right now with any exactness.
We have the same problems in economics. The economy is a complex system, our data are imperfect and our models inevitably fail to account for all the interactions.
The bottom line is that we should expect less of economists. Economics is a powerful tool, a lens for organizing one’s thinking about the complexity of the world around us. That should be enough. We should be honest about what we know, what we don’t know and what we may never know. Admitting that publicly is the first step toward respectability.
Category: Methodology
“The Intellectual Energy is No Longer with the Economists Who Construct Abstract and Elaborate Models”
(p. A23) In The Wall Street Journal, Russ Roberts of George Mason University wondered why economics is even considered a science. Real sciences make progress. But in economics, old thinkers cycle in and out of fashion. In real sciences, evidence solves problems. Roberts asked his colleagues if they could think of any econometric study so well done that it had definitively settled a dispute. Nobody could think of one.
“The bottom line is that we should expect less of economists,” Roberts wrote.
In a column called “A Crisis of Understanding,” Robert J. Shiller of Yale pointed out that the best explanation of the crisis isn’t even a work of economic analysis. It’s a history book — “This Time is Different” by Carmen M. Reinhart and Kenneth S. Rogoff — that is almost entirely devoid of theory.
One gets the sense, at least from the outside, that the intellectual energy is no longer with the economists who construct abstract and elaborate models. Instead, the field seems to be moving in a humanist direction. Many economists are now trying to absorb lessons learned by psychologists, neuroscientists and sociologists.
For the full commentary, see:
DAVID BROOKS. “The Return of History.” The New York Times (Fri., March 26, 2010): A23.
(Note: the online version of the commentary was dated March 25, 2010.”)
PowerPoint Useful for Graphs and for “Hypnotizing Chickens”
“A PowerPoint diagram meant to portray the complexity of American strategy in Afghanistan certainly succeeded in that aim.” Source of caption and graphic: online version of the NYT article quoted and cited below.
(p. A1) WASHINGTON — Gen. Stanley A. McChrystal, the leader of American and NATO forces in Afghanistan, was shown a PowerPoint slide in Kabul last summer that was meant to portray the complexity of American military strategy, but looked more like a bowl of spaghetti.
“When we understand that slide, we’ll have won the war,” General McChrystal dryly remarked, one of his advisers recalled, as the room erupted in laughter.
The slide has since bounced around the Internet as an example of a military tool that has spun out of control. Like an insurgency, PowerPoint has crept into the daily lives of military commanders and reached the level of near obsession. The amount of time expended on PowerPoint, the Microsoft presentation program of computer-generated charts, graphs and bullet points, has made it a running joke in the Pentagon and in Iraq and Afghanistan.
“PowerPoint makes us stupid,” Gen. James N. Mattis of the Marine Corps, the Joint Forces commander, said this month at a military conference in North Carolina. (He spoke without PowerPoint.) Brig. Gen. H. R. McMaster, who banned PowerPoint presentations when he led the successful effort to secure the northern Iraqi city of Tal Afar in 2005, followed up at the same conference by likening PowerPoint to an internal threat.
“It’s dangerous because it can create the illusion of understanding and the illusion of control,” General McMaster said in a telephone interview afterward. “Some problems in the world are not bullet-izable.”
. . .
(p. A8) Gen. David H. Petraeus, who oversees the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and says that sitting through some PowerPoint briefings is “just agony,” nonetheless likes the program for the display of maps and statistics showing trends. He has also conducted more than a few PowerPoint presentations himself.
. . .
Senior officers say the program does come in handy when the goal is not imparting information, as in briefings for reporters.
The news media sessions often last 25 minutes, with 5 minutes left at the end for questions from anyone still awake. Those types of PowerPoint presentations, Dr. Hammes said, are known as “hypnotizing chickens.”
For the full story, see:
COREY ELISABETH BUMILLER. “We Have Met the Enemy and He Is PowerPoint.” The New York Times (Thurs., April 27, 2010): A1 & A8.
(Note: ellipses added.)
(Note: the online version of the story is dated April 26, 2010.)
An interesting, but overdone critique of PowerPoint by an intelligent expert on graphics is:
Tufte, Edward R. The Cognitive Style of PowerPoint. Cheshire, CT: Graphics Press, 2003.
Britannica Imitates Wikipedia
(p. 209) Britannica had already launched a project called WebShare in April 2008, which was described as “A special program for web publishers, including bloggers, webmasters, and anyone who writes for the Internet. You get complimentary access to the Encyclopaedia Britannica online and, if you like, an easy way to give your readers background on the topics you write about with links to complete Britannica articles.” This was a rather radical move, obviously trying to vie with Wikipedia’s emergence as one of the most linked-to resources on the Internet.
But the latest initiative was something quite astonishing, as Britannica was now inviting users to be part of the team of content creators:
To elicit their participation in our new online community of scholars, we will provide our contributors with a reward system and a rich online home that will enable them to promote themselves, their work, and their services. . . . Encyclopaedia Britannica will allow those visitors to suggest changes and additions to that content.
Source:
Lih, Andrew. The Wikipedia Revolution: How a Bunch of Nobodies Created the World’s Greatest Encyclopedia. New York: Hyperion, 2009.
(Note: ellipsis in original.)
Highly Reputed Academic Science Journal Found Similar Error Rates in Britannica and Wikipedia
(p. 208) Wikipedia was already highly regarded, anecdotally, but it got a glowing evaluation from the prestigious Nature magazine in December 2005, when it concluded that Wikipedia “comes close” to Britannica in the quality of its science articles. “Our reviewers identified an average of four errors in each Wikipedia article, and three in each Britannica article.”
The news came as a bit of a surprise. Many folks felt Wikipedia did better than they’d have thought, and Britannica did, well, worse than they expected. The result of the study was hotly debated between Nature and Britannica, but to most Wikipedians it was a vindication. They knew that Wikipedia was a minefield of errors, but to be in such close proximity in quality to a traditionally edited encyclopedia, while using such a grassroots process, was the external validation they had been waiting for.
Britannica wasn’t pleased with the methodology, and posted a rebuttal with this criticism: “Almost everything about the journal’s investigation, from the criteria for identifying inaccuracies to the discrepancy between the article text and its headline, was wrong and misleading.” Nature and Britannica exchanged barbs and rebuttals, but in the end, the overall result seemed clear.
“The Nature (sic) article showed that we are on the right track with our current methods. We just need better ways to prevent the display of obvious vandalism at any time,” wrote longtime Wikipedian Daniel Mayer on the mailing list.
Source:
Lih, Andrew. The Wikipedia Revolution: How a Bunch of Nobodies Created the World’s Greatest Encyclopedia. New York: Hyperion, 2009.
(Note: italics in original.)
Quants Confused Mathematical Models and Reality
Source of book image: http://seekingalpha.com/article/188632-the-quants-review-when-the-money-grid-went-dark
(p. 7) The virtually exclusive use of mathematical models, Mr. Patterson says, was what separated the younger cohorts of quants from their Wall Street forebears. Unlike Warren Buffett or Peter Lynch, the quants did not focus on so-called market fundamentals like what goods or services a particular company actually produced. Seldom if ever did they act on old-fashioned gut instinct. Instead, they focused on factors like how cheap a stock was relative to the rest of the market or how quickly its price had risen or fallen.
Therein was the quants’ flaw, according to Mr. Patterson. Pioneers like Mr. Thorp understood that while the math world and the financial world have much in common, they aren’t always in sync. The quant traders’ model emphasized the most likely moves a stock or bond price could make. It largely ignored the possibility of big jolts caused by human factors, especially investor panics.
“The model soon became so ubiquitous that, hall-of-mirrors-like, it became difficult to tell the difference between the model and the market itself,” Mr. Patterson declares.
Move ahead to August 2007 and beyond, when markets swooned on doubts about subprime mortgages. Stocks that the model predicted were bound to go up went sharply down, and vice versa. Events that were supposed to happen only once in 10,000 years happened three days in a row.
For the full review, see:
HARRY HURT III. “Off the Shelf; In Practice, Stock Formulas Weren’t Perfect.” The New York Times, SundayBusiness Section (Sun., February 21, 2010): 7.
(Note: the online version of the article is dated February 20, 2010.)
The reference to Patterson’s book, is:
Patterson, Scott. The Quants: How a New Breed of Math Whizzes Conquered Wall Street and Nearly Destroyed It. New York: Crown Business, 2010.
Philosopher Duped by Hoax Because He Failed to Consult Wikipedia
(p. A4) PARIS — For the debut of his latest weighty title, “On War in Philosophy,” the French philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy made the glossy spreads of French magazines with his trademark panache: crisp, unbuttoned white Charvet shirts, golden tan and a windswept silvery mane of hair.
But this glamorous literary campaign was suddenly marred by an absolute philosophical truth: Mr. Lévy backed up the book’s theories by citing the thought of a fake philosopher. In fact, the sham philosopher has never been a secret, and even has his own Wikipedia entry.
In the uproar that followed over the rigors of his research, Mr. Lévy on Tuesday summed up his situation with one e-mailed sentence: “My source of information is books, not Wikipedia.”
For the full story, see:
DOREEN CARVAJAL. “Philosopher Left to Muse on Ridicule Over a Hoax.” The New York Times (Weds., February 10, 2010): A4.
(Note: the online version of the article is dated February 9, 2010.)
“Expert Scholarship” Versus “People of Dubious Background”
(p. 71) The acknowledgment, by name, of volunteers in the preface sections of the OED is akin to Wikipedia’s edit history, where one can inspect who contributed to each article. Some Oxford contributors were professors, some royalty, but most were ordinary folks who answered the call. Winchester, in The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary, tells the story of the “madman” William Chester Minor, a U.S. Civil War survivor whose “strange and erratic behavior” resulted in him shooting an “innocent working man” to death in the street in Lambeth. He was sent to Broadmoor asylum for criminal lunatics. He discovered the OED as a project around 1881, when he saw the “Appeal for Readers” in the library, and worked for the next twenty-one years contributing to the project, receiving notoriety as a contributor “second only to the contributions of Dr. Fitzedward Hall in enhancing our illustration of the literary history of individual words, phrases and constructions.” Minor did something unusual in not just sending submissions, but having his own cataloging system such that the dictionary editors could send a postcard and “out the details flowed, in abundance and always with unerring accuracy.” Until Minor and Murray met in January 1891, no one working with (p. 72) the OED knew their prolific contributor was a madman and murderer housed at Broadmoor.
As we will see in later chapters, a common question of the wiki method is whether one can trust information created by strangers and people of dubious background. But the example of the OED shows that using contributors rather than original expert scholarship is not a new phenomenon, and that projects built as a compendium of primary sources are well suited for harnessing the power of distributed volunteers.
Source:
Lih, Andrew. The Wikipedia Revolution: How a Bunch of Nobodies Created the World’s Greatest Encyclopedia. New York: Hyperion, 2009.
(Note: italics in original.)
Like Wikipedia, Oxford English Dictionary Was Built by Amateur Volunteers
(p. 70) The venerable Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the history of which is masterfully documented by Simon Winchester in The Meaning of Everything and The Professor and the Madman, was in fact possible only through the soliciting of contributions, and the receipt of thousands of “slips” of paper, each with words and definitions found by readers and volunteers.
The OED didn’t start out with such a grand title, and was first a project of the Philological Society in Great Britian (sic), as a response to what they saw as the popular dictionaries of Noah Webster and Samuel Johnson not doing the “English language justice.” In 1857, it was started as the Unregistered Words Committee, and the job was to comb through all forms of media of the era (printed matter, song, spoken word) leading to the inventorying and cataloging of English words. The three founders, Chenevix Trench, Herbert Coleridge, and Frederick Furnivall, sent out a notice in November of that year: “AN APPEAL TO THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING AND ENGLISH-READING PUBLIC TO READ BOOKS AND MAKE EXTRACTS FOR THE PHILOLOGICAL SOCIETY’S NEW ENGLISH DICTIONARY.” Specifically, it described the project thusly:
Accordingly, in January 1859. the Society issued their Proposal for the publication of a New English Dictionary, in which the characteristics of the proposed work were explained, and an appeal made to the English and American public to assist in collecting the raw materials for the work, these materials consisting of quotations illustrating the use of English words by all writers of all ages and in all senses, each quotation being made on a uniform plan on a half-sheet of notepaper that they might in due course be arranged and classified alphabetically and significantly. This Appeal met with generous response: some hundreds of volunteers began to read books, make quotations and send in their slips to “sub-editors who volunteered each to take charge of a letter or part of one, and by whom the slips were in turn further arranged, classified, and (p. 71) to some extent used as the basis of definitions and skeleton schemes of the meanings of words in preparation for the Dictionary.
The notice was sent to “bookshops and libraries across the English-speaking world” and, under the direction of Scottish lexicographer James Murray, saw its growth blossom. In 1879, Oxford University Press formally agreed to be publisher and employed Murray to take on the editorship. Slips sent in to the effort were filed away in pigeonholes at the Scriptorium, a corrugated metal building Mill Hill School erected specifically for the effort of sorting and housing the staff to work on the dictionary.
Source:
Lih, Andrew. The Wikipedia Revolution: How a Bunch of Nobodies Created the World’s Greatest Encyclopedia. New York: Hyperion, 2009.
(Note: italics and caps in original.)
The block quote within the Lih block quote is from p. 108 of:
Winchester, Simon. The Meaning of Everything: The Story of the Oxford English Dictionary. paperback ed. New York: Oxford University Press, USA, 2003.
At Odds with Academic Culture, Wiki Programmer Adams Released Early and Released Often
(p. 67) Adams did something unexpected for the academic community, but common in open source culture–release early and release often. Within weeks of its launch, one of the biggest annoyances of Wikipedia was resolved directly by the software’s author. It was not because of monetary compensation or any formal request, but simply because the author was interested in solving it on his own time, and sharing it with others. It was the hacker ethos, and it had crossed from the domain of tech programmers into the world of encyclopedias.
Source:
Lih, Andrew. The Wikipedia Revolution: How a Bunch of Nobodies Created the World’s Greatest Encyclopedia. New York: Hyperion, 2009.
“Strategy, as We Knew It, Is Dead”
(p. B7) During the recession, as business forecasts based on seemingly plausible swings in sales smacked up against reality, executives discovered that strategic planning doesn’t always work.
Some business leaders came away convinced that the new priority was to be able to shift course on the fly. Office Depot Inc., for example, began updating its annual budget every month, starting in early 2009. Other companies started to factor more extreme scenarios into their thinking. A few even set up “situation rooms,” where staffers glued to computer screens monitored developments affecting sales and finances.
Now, even though the economy is slowly picking up, those fresh habits aren’t fading. “This downturn has changed the way we will think about our business for many years to come,” says Steve Odland, Office Depot’s chairman and chief executive.
Walt Shill, head of the North American management consulting practice for Accenture Ltd., is even more blunt: “Strategy, as we knew it, is dead,” he contends. “Corporate clients decided that increased flexibility and accelerated decision making are much more important than simply predicting the future.”
Companies have long planned for changing circumstances. What’s new–and a switch from the distant calendars and rigid forecasts of the past–is the heavy dose of opportunism. Office Depot stuck with its three-year planning process after the recession hit, largely to make sure employees had a common plan to rally around, Mr. Odland says. But the CEO decided to review the budget every month rather than quarterly so the office-supply chain could react faster to changes in customers’ needs.
For the full story, see:
JOANN S. LUBLIN and DANA MATTIOLI. “Theory & Practice; Strategic Plans Lose Favor; Slump Showed Bosses Value of Flexibility, Quick Decisions.” The Wall Street Journal (Mon., January 22, 2010): B7.