Game, Set, Match.com

June 5, 2014
Posted by Jay Livingston

Usually, you want to match up with someone at about your level, or a little higher.  The trouble is that many people overestimate their own level.  Maybe that’s especially true of men.

One summer many years ago at the tennis courts, a guy I didn’t know  came over and asked me if I’d like to play. I hadn’t arranged a game with anyone, but I didn’t want to wind up playing some patzer. 
“Are you any good?” I asked. He paused.
“Well, I’m not Jimmy Connors,” he said (I told this was many years ago), “but neither are you.” 

In chess and other games, serious players have ratings. Give a roomful of possible partners, they can sort through the ratings and find a match with someone at roughly the same level.  It’s called assortative mating, though that term usually refers to the other kind of mating, not chess.  It’s the basis of the conflict in this poignant scene from “Louie.” (The scene was also played on a recent  “Fresh Air” interview with Louis C.K.)



Vanessa is not a ten, neither is Louie.  According to principles of assortative mating, the tens will wind up with other tens, the nines with nines, and so on down the attractiveness scale. One problem in the “Louie” scene is that Louie seems to have an inflated view of his own attractiveness.  He’s aiming higher than Vanessa.  That’s typical.  So is the importance that Louie, the man, places on physical attractiveness. This excerpt begins with Louie telling Vanessa that she’s a really beautiful . . . . He can’t bring himself to say “girl”; he was probably going to say “person”  or worse, “human being.” In any case, he’s obviously not saying what he thinks.

Or as Dan Ariely and colleagues concluded from their study of HotOrNot members (here)*

[Men] were significantly more influenced by the consensus physical attractiveness of their potential dates than females were. [Men also] were less affected by how attractive they themselves were . . .  In making date choices, males are less influenced by their own rated attractiveness than females are.

Another dating site, OK Cupid, found a similar pattern when they looked at data about who gets messages (here).**  They asked their customers to rate profile photos of the opposite sex on a scale of 0 to 5. They then tracked the number of messages for people at each level of attractiveness.  The graph below shows what women thought and what they did – that is, how attractive they found men, and who they sent messages to.


Men who were rated 0 or 1 got fewer messages than their proportion in the population.  That figures. But even men who were only moderately attractive got more than their share. Generally, the fewer men at a level of attractiveness, the fewer total messages women sent. The male 4s, for example, constituted only 2% of the population, and they got only 4% of all the messages. The Vanessas on OK Cupid are not sending a lot of inquiries to guys who look like George Clooney.

But look at the men.


Men are more generous in their estimates of beauty than are women. But they also ignore the Vanessas of the world (or at least the world of OK Cupid) and flock after the more attractive women, even though there are fewer of those women.  Only 15% of the women were rated as a 4, but they received about 26% of the messages.  Women rated 5 received messages triple their proportion in the population. 

What about those with so-so looks?  Women rated as 2s received only about 10% of the messages sent by men. But men at that same level received 25% of the messages women sent.  The women seem more realistic.

Vanessa too has no illusions about her own attractiveness. She refers to herself as “a fat girl,” and when Louie, trying to be kind, says, “You’re not fat,” she says: “You know what the meanest thing is you can say to a fat girl? [pause] ‘You’re not fat.’”*** But it’s only when she challenges Louie’s view of his own attractiveness that their relationship starts to change.

Y’know if you were standing over there looking at us, you know what you’d see?
What?
That we totally match. We’re actually a great couple together.

She doesn’t explain what she means by “totally match.” It could be their interests or ideas or personalities, but the imaginary stranger looking at them from over there couldn’t know about any of that. What that generalized other could see is that they are at roughly the same place on the assortative mating attractiveness scale.

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* Ariely discusses this research in his book The Upside of Irrationality.

** OK Cupid was founded by Harvard math graduates. On the Website’s blog, they would post graphs like these – big data that could be very useful for the site’s members. A few years ago, they sold out to Match.com, and the data analyses ended.

*** This occurs early in the clip, at about 0:25. The entire 7and a half minutes is worth watching.

Tide and Time

June 4, 2014
Posted by Jay Livingston

Survey questions, even those that seem simple and straightforward, can be tricky and yield incorrect answers.  Social desirability can skew the answers to questions about what you would do – “Would you vote for a woman for president. . . .?” and even factual questions about what you did do.  “Don’t ask, ‘How many books did you read last year?’‘ said the professor in my undergraduate methods course. “Ask ‘Did you read a book last week?’” There’s no shame in having been too busy to read a book in a seven-day period. Besides, people’s recall will be more accurate.  Or will it? Is even a week’s time enough to distort memory?

Leif Nelson (Berkeley, Business School) asked shoppers, “Did you buy laundry detergent the last time you went to the store?” Forty-two percent said yes.



Nelson doesn’t question the 42% figure. He’s interested in something else:  the “false consensus effect” – the tendency to think that others are more like us than they really are.

So he asks, “What percentage of shoppers do you think will buy laundry detergent?” and he also asks “Did you buy laundry detergent.” Sure enough, those who said they bought detergent give higher estimates of detergent buying by others. (Nelson’s blog post, with other interesting findings, is here.)

But did 42% of those shoppers really buy detergent last time they were in the store? Andrew Gelman is “stunned” and skeptical. So am I.

The average family does 7-8 washes a week. Let’s round that up to 10.  They typically do serious shopping once a week with a few other quick express-lane trips during the week.  This 50 oz. jug of Tide will do 32 loads – three week’s of washing.



That means only 33% of customers should have said yes.  And that 33% is a very high estimate since most families buy in bulk, especially with items like detergent. Tide also comes in 100-oz. and 150-oz. jugs.

If you prefer powder, how about this 10-lb. box of Cheer? It’s good for 120 loads. 

A family should need to buy this one in only one out of 12 trips. Even at double the average washing, that’s six weeks of detergent. The true proportion of shoppers buying detergent should be well below 20%.

Why then do people think they buy detergent so much more frequently?  I’m puzzled.  Maybe if washing clothes is part of the daily routine, something you’re always doing, buying detergent seems like part of the weekly shopping trip. Still, if we can’t rely on people’s answers about whether they bought detergent, what does that mean for other seemingly innocuous survey questions?

Bourgeois False Consciousness

May 28, 2014
Posted by Jay Livingston

Conservatives get upset when rich people push for policies that will help the poor and the less privileged.  But why? 

It might be the threat to solidarity.  It’s one thing if traditional opponents attack from the outside. But one of our own switching sides adds the insult of rejection to any injury.  Besides, the defector’s actions and judgments can’t be dismissed as mere ignorance. He is an insider, he’s been there. So while we treat prisoners of war decently (they were just playing their part in the game), we get really upset at turncoats.  Desertion and treason are punishable by death.

In the 1930s, FDR was “a traitor to his class.”  In more recent years, the conservative tone in these matters has changed from anger over betrayal to a kind of bemused condescension and questioning of motives as in Tom Wolfe’s “Radical Chic.”  But whether the heretical rich are “traitors” or whether they are “limousine liberals,” the underlying assumption is the same: Rich people should pursue policies that help rich people. They should not make common cause with political movements created by and for the less privileged.

Conservatives here are hauling out the old Marxist concept of “false consciousness” and applying it to the bourgeoisie rather than the proletariat.  If these wealthy people had true class consciousness, they would remain true to rich people’s movements.

The latest version of this reaction came yesterday in an NPR story  about a meeting in London, a meeting of the very, very, very rich – 250 invited guests (including Prince Charles) – to talk about “inclusive capitalism.” Among things such capitalism might include are attention to the environment, to inequality, and to working conditions.

LYNN FORESTER DE ROTHSCHILD: We have $30 trillion of assets under management in the room. So if this bulk of capital decides that they are going to invest in companies that aren't only thinking about the short-term profit, then we will see corporate behavior change.

It’s hard for conservatives to blatantly oppose those goals. Instead, their strategy is to belittle. The NPR story asked Scott Winship for his reaction. Winship, works for the Manhattan Institute, a conservative think tank (they get their money from Koch, Scaife, et al.). Winship’s statements are usually sensible and data based, but his contribution to the NPR story is just snark.

SCOTT WINSHIP: I suspect the return on investment in this conference is astonishingly low.
It sort of surprises me, I think, that you have a bunch of people in the investment community who apparently are viewing this as having a significant return on investment, in some way, whether the return is in people kind of patting them on the back and saying, thanks for caring about us, or in actual changes to policies.

Winship’s guiding principle here seems to be: If you can’t say something nasty, don’t say anything at all. Since he can’t demean the goals, he dismisses the participants’ motives (they are insecure egotists who want to be patted on the back) and says that for a bunch of investors, they’re making bad investment decisions – investing all that effort to get very little return.* Apparently, it’s better to do nothing than to try to ameliorate real problems.

Better still to devote that effort to making themselves still richer. At least that way, they’ll have conservatives patting them on the back and thanking them for being “job creators.” 
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*Maybe the NPR interviewer had prompted Winship to be critical. Maybe Winship made more substantive comments that were edited out of the piece. I certainly hope so.

Sell It! – American (Psychology) Hustle

May 23, 2014
Posted by Jay Livingston

The Rangers crushed the Canadiens convincingly in game one: 7-2. The question was whether that result could be replicated . . . three more times.

Replication is hard (as the Rangers and their fans discovered in overtime at the Garden last night). That’s true in social science too. The difference is that the results of the Rangers’ failure to replicate were published.

Social psychologists are now paying more attention to the replication question. In the Reproducibility Project, Brian Nosek and others have set about trying to replicate most of the studies published in three top journals since 2008.  The first round of results was encouraging – of thirteen attempts, ten were consistent with the original findings. In one case, an “anchoring” study by Daniel Kahneman, the effect was stronger than in the original.

What failed to replicate? Mostly, experiments involving “priming,” where subliminal cues affect people’s ideas or behavior. In the best known and now most controversial of these, participants were primed by words suggesting old age (wrinkles, bingo, alone, Florida). They were then surreptitiously timed as they walked down the hall. In the original study by John Bargh (the priming primus inter pares), participants who were primed walked more slowly than did the controls.*

Many people have tried to replicate this study, and the results are mixed. One problem might be a “Rosenthal” effect, where the experimenters unintentionally and unknowingly influence the participants’ behavior so that it conforms with their expectations. Double-blind experiments, where the experimenters don’t know which participants have been primed, do not produce significant differences. (More here.)

I had a different explanation:  some guys can prime; some can’t. 

Maybe John Bargh and his assistants are really good at priming. Somehow, when they give participants those words mixed in among others, the subjects get a strong but still subliminal mental image of wrinkled retirees in Miami. But other psychologists at other labs haven’t got the same touch. Unfortunately, the researchers did not use an independent measure of how effective the priming was, so we can’t know.

I was delighted to see that Daniel Kahneman (quoted here ) had the same idea.

The conduct of subtle experiments has much in common with the direction of a theatre performance . . . you must tweak the situation just so, to make the manipulation strong enough to work, but not salient enough to attract even a little attention . . . .Bargh has a knack that not all of us have.

Many social psychology experiments involve a manipulation that the participant must be unaware of. If the person catches on to the priming (“Hey, all these sentences have words with a geezer theme,”), it blows the con. Some experiments require more blatant deceptions (think Milgram), and not all psychologists are good deceivers.

What reminded me of this was Eliot Aronson’s memoir Not by Chance Alone. Aronson is one of the godfathers of social psychology experiments, and one of his most famous is the one-dollar-twenty-dollar lie, more widely known as “Aronson and Carlsmith, 1963.” Carlsmith was J. Merrill Carlsmith.  The name seems like something from central casting, and so did the man –  a polite  WASP who prepped at Andover, etc. 

In the experiment, the subject was given a boring task to do – taking spools out of a rack and then putting them back, again and again, while Carlsmith as experimenter stood there with a stopwatch pretending to time him.  The next step was to convince the subject to help the experimenter.

[Merrill] would explain that he was testing the hypothesis that people work faster if they are told in advance that the task is incredibly interesting than if they are told nothing and informed, “You were in the control condition. That is why you were told nothing.”

At this point Merrill would say that the guy who was supposed to give the ecstatic description to the next subject had just phoned in to say he couldn’t make it. Merrill would beg the “control” subject to do him a favor and play the role, offering him a dollar (or twenty dollars) to do it. Once the subject agreed, Merrill was to give him the money and a sheet listing the main things to say praising the experiment and leave him alone for a few minutes to prepare.

But Carlsmith could not do a credible job. Subjects immediately became suspicious.

It was crystal clear why the subjects weren’t buying it: He wasn’t selling it. Leon [Festinger] said to me, “Train him.”

Sell it.  If you’ve seen “American Hustle,” you might remember the scene where Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale) is trying to show the FBI agent disguised as an Arab prince how to give a gift to the politician they are setting up. (The relevant part starts at 0:12 and ends at about 0:38)



Here is the script:


Aronson had to do something similar, and he had the qualifications. As a teenager, he had worked at a Fascination booth on the boardwalk in Revere, Massachusetts, reeling off a spiel to draw strollers in to try their luck.

Walk right in, sit in, get a seat, get a ball. Play poker for a nickel. . . You get five rubber balls. You roll them nice and easy . . . Any three of a kind or better poker hand, and you are a winner. So walk in, sit in, play poker for a nickel. Five cents. Hey! There's three jacks on table number 27. Payoff that lucky winner!

Twenty years later, Aronson still had the knack, and he could impart it to others. Like Kahneman, he thinks of the experiment as theater.

I gave Merrill a crash course in acting. “You don’t simply say that the assistant hasn’t shown up,” I said. “You fidget, you sweat, you pace up and down, you wring your hands, you convey to the subject that you are in real trouble here. And then, you act as if you just now got an idea. You look at the subject, and you brighten up. ‘You! You can do this for me. I can even pay you.’”

The deception worked, and the experiment worked.  When asked to say how interesting the task was, the $1 subjects give it higher ratings than did the $20 subjects.  Less pay for lying, more attitude shift. The experiment is now part of the cognitive dissonance canon. Surely, others have tried to replicate it.  I just don’t know what the results have been.

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* An earlier post on Bargh and replication is here
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