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Showing posts with label replication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label replication. Show all posts

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Is the scientific sky falling?

It seems that everywhere you look science is collapsing. I hope my tongue was visibly in cheek as you read first sentence. There is currently a fad deploring the irreplicability of experiments in various fields. Here’s a lamentation I read lately, the following being the money line:

The deeper problem is that much of cancer research in the lab—maybe even most of it—simply can’t be trusted. The data are corrupt. The findings are unstable. The science doesn’t work.

Why? Because there is “a replication crisis in biomedicine.”

I am actually skeptical about the claims that the scientific sky is falling. But before I get to that, I have to admit to a bit of shadenfreude. Compared to what we see in large parts of psychology, and neuroscience and, if the above is correct, biomedicine, linguistic “data” is amazingly robust and stable. It is easy to get, easy to vet, and easy to replicate.[1] There is no “data” problem in linguistics analogous to what we are hearing exists in the other domains of inquiry. And it is worth thinking about why this is. Here’s my view.

First, FL is a robust mental organ. What I mean by this is that Gs tend to have a large effect on acceptability, and acceptability is something that native speakers are (or can be trained) to judge reliably. This is a big deal. Linguists are lucky in this way. There are occasional problems inferring Gish properties from acceptability judgments, and we ought not to confuse grammaticality with acceptability. However, as a matter of fact, the two often swing in tandem and the contribution of grammaticality to acceptability is very often quite large. This need not have been true, but it appears that it is.

We should be appropriately amazed by this. Many things go into an acceptability judgment. However, it is hard to swamp the G factor. This is almost certainly a reflection of the modular nature of FL and Gish knowledge. Gishness doesn’t give a hoot for the many contextual factors involved in language use. Context matters little, coherence matters little, ease of processing matters little. What really matters is formal kashrut. So when contextual/performance factors do affect acceptability, as they do, they don’t wipe out the effects of G.

Some advice: When you are inclined to think otherwise repeat to yourself colorless green ideas sleep furiously or recall that instinctively eagles that fly swim puts the instinct with the obviously wrong eagle trait. Gs aren’t trumped by sense or pragmatic naturalness and because of this we linguists can use very cheap and dirty methods to get reliable data, in many domain of interest.[2]

So, we are lucky and we do not have a data problem. However, putting my gloating aside, let’s return to the data crises in science. Let me make three points.

First, experiments are always hard. They involve lots of tacit knowledge on the part of the experimenters. Much of this knowledge cannot be written down in notebooks and is part of what it is to get an experiment to run right (see here). It is not surprising that this knowledge gets easily lost and that redoing experiments from long ago become challenging (as the Slate piece makes clear). This need not imply sloppiness or methodological sloth or corruption. Lab notes do not (and likely cannot) record important intangibles, or, if they do, they don’t do so well. Experiments are performances and, as we all know, a score does not record every detail of how to perform a piece. So, even in the best case, experiments, at least complex ones, will be hard to replicate, especially after some time has passed.

Second, IMO, much of the brouhaha occurs in areas where we have confused experiments relevant to science with those relevant to engineering. Science experiments are aimed at isolating basic underlying causal factors. They are not designed to produce useful product. In fact, they are not engineering at all for they generally abstract from precisely those problems that are the most interesting engineering wise. Here's a nice quote from Thornton Fry, once head of Bell Labs math unit:

The mathematician tends to idealize any situation with which he is confronted. His gases are “ideal,” his conductors “perfect, “ his surfaces “smooth” He call this “getting down to the essentials.” The engineer is likely to dub it “ignoring the facts.”

Science experiments are generally investigating the properties of these ideal objects and their experiments are not worried about the fine details that the engineer would rightly worry about. This is a problem when the interest in the findings becomes interesting from an engineering point of view. Here’s the Slate piece:

When cancer research does get tested, it’s almost always by a private research lab. Pharmaceutical and biotech businesses have the money and incentive to proceed—but these companies mostly keep their findings to themselves. (That’s another break in the feedback loop of self-correction.) In 2012, the former head of cancer research at Amgen, Glenn Begley, brought wide attention to this issue when he decided to go public with his findings in a piece for Nature. Over a 10-year stretch, he said, Amgen’s scientists had tried to replicate the findings of 53 “landmark” studies in cancer biology. Just six of them came up with positive results.

I am not trying to suggest that being replicable is a bad idea, but I am suggesting that what counts as a good experiment for scientific purposes might not be one that suffices for engineering purposes. Thus, I would not be at all surprised that there is a much smaller replication crisis in molecular or cell biology than there is in biomedicine, the former further removed from the engineering “promise” of bioscience than the latter. If this is correct, then part of the problem we see might be attributed to the NIH and NSF’s insistence that science payoff (“bench to bed” requirements). Here, IMO, is one of the less positive consequences of the “wider impact” sections of contemporary grants.

Third, at least in some areas, the problem of replication really is a problem of ignorance. When you know very little, an experiment can be very fragile. We try to mitigate the fragility by statistical massaging, but ignorance makes it hard to know what to control for. IMO, domains where we find replicability problems look like domains where our knowledge of the true causal structures is very spotty. This is certainly true of large parts of psychology. It strikes me that the same might hold in biomedicine (medicine being as much an art as a science as anyone who has visited a doctor likely knows). To repeat Eddington’s dictum: never trust an experiment until it’s been verified by theory! Theory poor domains will also be experimentally fragile ones. This does not mean that science is in trouble. It means that not everything we call a science really is.

Let me repeat this point more vigoroulsy: there is a tendency to identify science with certain techniques of investigation: experiments, stats, controls, design etc. But this does not science make. The real sciences are not distinguished by their techniques but are domains where, for some happy reason, we have identified the right idealizations to investigate. Real science arises when our idealizations gain empirical purchase, when they fit. Thinking these up, moreover, is very hard for any number of reasons. Here is one: idealizations rely on abstractions, and some domains lend themselves to abstraction more easily than others. Thus some domains will be more scientifically successful than others. Experiments work and are useful when we have some ideas where the causal joints are and this comes form correctly conceiving of the problems our experiments are constructed to address. Sadly, in most domains if interest, we know little and it should be no surprise that when you don’t know much you can be easily misled even if you are careful.

Let me put this another way: there is a cargo cult conception of science that the end of science lamentations seem to presuppose. Do experiments, stats, controls, be careful etc. and knowledge will come. Science on this view is the careful accumulation and vetting of data. Get the data right and the science will take care of itself. It lives very comfortably with an Empiricist conception of knowledge. IMO, it is wrong. Science arises when we manage to get the problem right. Then these techniques (and they are important) gain traction. We then understand what experiments are telling us. The lamentations we are seeing routinely now about the collapse of science has less to do with the real thing than with our misguided conception of what the enterprise consists in. It is a reflection of the overwhelming dominance of Empiricist ideology, which, at bottom comes down to the belief that insight is just a matter of more and more factual detail. The modern twist on this is tha though one fact might not speak for itself, lots and lots of them do (hence the appeal of big data). What we are finding is that there is no real substitute for insight and thought. This might be unwelcome news to many, but that’s the way it is and always will be. The “crises” is largely a product of the fact that for most domains of interest we have very little idea about what’s going on, and urging more careful attention to experimental detail will not be able to finesse this.



[1] Again see the work by Jon  Sprouse, Diogo Almeida and colleagues on this. The take home message from their work is that what we always thought to be reliable data is in fact reliable data and that our methods of collecting it are largely fine.
[2] This is why stats for data collection is not generally required (or useful). I read a nice quote from Rutherford: If your experiment needs statistics, you ought to have done a better experiment.” You draw the inference.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Methodological Hygiene


I was planning to write something thoughtful today on formal versus substantive universals and how we have made lots of progress wrt the former but quite a bit less wrt the latter. This post, however, will have to wait.  Why? Lunch!  Over lunch I had an intriguing discussion of the latest academic brouhaha, and how it compares with one that linguists know about “L’affaire Hauser.”  For those of you that don’t read the financial pages, or don’t religiously follow Krugman (here, first of many), or don’t watch Colbert (here) let me set the stage.

In 2010, two big name economists, Carmen Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff (RR), wrote a paper building on their very important work (This Time is Different) chronicling the aftermath of financial crises through the ages. The book garnered unbelievable reviews and made the two rock stars of the Great Recession.  The paper that followed was equally provocative, though not nearly as well received.  The paper claimed to find an important kind of debt threshold which when crossed caused economic growth to tank.  Actually, this is a bit tendentious.  What the paper claimed was that there was a correlation between debt to GDP ratio of 90% and higher and the collapse of growth.  Note: correlation, not causation.  However, what made the paper hugely influential was the oft-suggested hint that the causality was from high debt to slow growth rather than the other way around or some combination of the two. The first interpretation was quickly seized upon by the “Very Special Serious People” (VSP), aka “austerians,” to justify policies of aggressively cutting budget deficits rather than fiscally priming the economic pump to combat high unemployment.[1] Keynesians like Krugman (and many others, including Larry Summers, another famous Harvardian) argued that the causality was from slow growth to large deficits and so the right policy was to boost government spending to fight unemployment as doing this would also alleviate the debt “problem.”[2] At any rate, it is safe to say that RR’s 2010 paper had considerable political and economic impact.  Ok, let’s shift to the present, or at any rate the last week.

Three U Mass economists (Herndon, Ash and Pollin:the lead being a first year grad student whose econometrics class project was to replicate some well known result in order to learn econometric methods) showed that the 2010 paper was faulty in several important ways: (i) there was a spread sheet error with some important info left out (this accounted for a small part of RR’s result), (ii) there was a trimming decision where some data points that could be deemed relevant as they trended against the RR conclusion were left out (this accounted for a decent percentage of the RR effect), and (iii) there was a weighting decision in which one year’s results were weighted the same as 17 year’s worth of results (this accounted for a good chunk of RR’s results).  All together, when these were factored in, RR’s empirical claim disappeared. Those who click onto the Colbert link above will get to meet the young grad student that started all of this.  If you are interested in the incident, just plug “Reinhart and Rogoff” into Google and start reading. To say that this is now all over the news is an understatement. Ok, why do I find this interesting for us.  Several reasons.

First, though this is getting well discussed and amply criticized in the media, I did not read anywhere that Harvard was putting together a panel to investigate bad scientific practice. Spreadsheet errors are to be expected. But the other maneuvers look like pretty shoddy empirical practice, i.e. even if defensible, they should be up front and center in any paper. They weren’t. But, still no investigation. Why not? It cannot be because this is “acceptable” for once exposed it seems that everyone finds it odd. Moreover, RR’s findings have been politically very potent, i.e. consequential.  So, the findings were important, false and shoddy. Why no investigation? Because this stuff though really important is hard to distinguish from what everyone does?

Second, why no expose in the Chronicle accompanied by a careful think piece about research ethics?  One might think that this would be front page academic news and that venues that got all excited over fraud might find it right up their alley to discuss such an influential case.

It is worth comparing this institutional complacency to the reaction our own guardians of scientific virtue had wrt Hauser.  They went ape (tamarin?) shit! Professors were impanelled to review his lab’s work, he was censured and effectively thrown out of the university, big shot journal editors reviled him in the blogosphere, and he was held out as an object lesson in scientific vice. The Chronicle also jumped onto the band wagon tsk-tsking about dishonesty and how it derails serious science. Moreover, even after all the results in all the disputed papers were replicated no second thoughts, no revisiting and re-evaluating the issues, nothing.  However, if one were asked to weigh the risks to scientific practice of RR’s behavior and Hauser’s alleged malpractice it’s pretty clear that the former are far more serious than the latter. Their results did not replicate. And, I am willing to bet, their sins are far more common and so pollute the precious data stream much much more. Indeed, there is a recent paper (here) that suggests that the bulk of research in neuroscience is not replicable, i.e. the data are simply not, in general, reliable. Do we know how generally replicable results in psycho are?  Anyone want to lay a bet that the number is not as high as we like to think?

Is this surprising? Not really, I think. We don’t know that much about the brain or the mind. It strikes me that a lot of research consists of looking for interesting phenomena rather than testing coherent hypotheses. When you know nothing, it’s not clear what to count or how to count it.  The problem is that the powerful methods of statistics encourages us to think that we know something when in fact we don’t. John Maynard Smith, I think, said that statistics is a tool that allows one to do 20 experiments and get one published in Nature (think p>.05).  Fraud is not the problem, and I suspect that it never has been. The problems lie in the accepted methods, which, unless used very carefully and intelligently, can muddy the empirical waters substantially. What recent events indicate (at least to me) is that if you are interested in good data, then it’s the accepted methods that need careful scrutiny. Indeed, if replicability is what we want (and isn’t that the gold standard for data?), maybe we should all imitate Hauser for he seems to know how to get results that others can get as well.

I will end on a positive note: we linguists are pretty lucky.  Our data is easily accessed and very reliable (as Sprouse and Almeida have made abundantly clear).  We are also lucky in that we have managed to construct non-trivial theories with reasonable empirical reach.  This acts to focus research and, just as importantly, makes it possible to identify “funny looking” data so that it can be subjected to careful test. Theories guard against gullibility.  So, despite the fact that we don’t in general gather our data as “carefully” as neuroscientists and psychologists and economists gather theirs, we don’t need to.  It’s harder to “cheat,” statistically or otherwise, because we have some decent theory and because the data is ubiquitous, easy to access and surprisingly robust.  This need not always be so. In the future, we may need to devise fancy experiments to get data relevant to our theories. But to date, informal methods have proven sufficient.  Strange that some see this as a problem, given the myriad ways there are to obscure the facts when one is being ultra careful.




[1] VSP is Krugman’s coinage. I am not sure who first coined the second.
[2] The scare quotes are to indicate that there is some debate about whether there actually is a problem, at least in the medium term.