we filled. As two data workers, we looked on the mortgage crisis with interest and curiosity.
The subprime mortgage crises had a lot of contributing factors behind it.2 In our attempt to offer it up as an example here, we don't want to negate other factors. However, put simply, we see it as a major data failure. Banks and investors created models to understand the value of mortgage-backed collateralized debt obligations (CDOs). You might remember those as the investment vehicles behind the United States’ market collapse.
Mortgage-backed CDOs were thought to be a safe investment because they spread the risk associated with loan default across multiple investment units. The idea was that in a portfolio of mortgages, if only a few went into default, this would not materially affect the underlying value of the entire portfolio.
And yet, upon reflection we know that some fundamental underlying assumptions were wrong. Chief among them were that default outcomes were independent events. If Person A defaults on a loan, it wouldn't impact Person B's risk of default. We would all soon learn defaults functioned more like dominoes where a previous default could predict further defaults. When one mortgage defaulted, the property values surrounding the home dropped, and the risk of defaults on those homes increased. The default effectively dragged the neighboring houses down into a sinkhole.
Assuming independence when events are in fact connected is a common error in statistics.
But let's go further into this story. Investment banks created models that overvalued these investments. A model, which we'll talk about later in the book, is a deliberate oversimplification of reality. It uses assumptions about the real world in an attempt to understand and make predictions about certain phenomena.
And who were these people who created and understood these models? They were the people who would lay the groundwork for what today we call the data scientist. Our kind of people. Statisticians, economists, physicists—folks who did machine learning, artificial intelligence, and statistics. They worked with data. And they were smart. Super smart.
And yet, something went wrong. Did they not ask the correct questions of their work? Were disclosures of risk lost in a game of telephone from the analysts to the decision makers, with uncertainty being stripped away piece by piece, giving an illusion of a perfectly predictable housing market? Did the people involved flat out lie about results?
More personal to us, how could we avoid similar mistakes in our own work?
We had many questions and could only speculate the answers, but one thing was clear—this was a large-scale data disaster at work. And it wouldn't be the last.
The 2016 United States General Election
On November 8, 2016, the Republican candidate, Donald J. Trump, won the general election of the United States beating the assumed front-runner and Democratic challenger, Hillary Clinton. For the political pollsters this came as a shock. Their models hadn't predicted his win. And this was supposed to be the year for election prediction.
In 2008, Nate Silver's FiveThirtyEight blog—then part of The New York Times—had done a fantastic job predicting Barack Obama's win. At the time, pundits were skeptical that his forecasting algorithm could accurately predict the election. In 2012, once again, Nate Silver was front and center predicting another win for Barack Obama.
By this point, the business world was starting to embrace data and hire data scientists. The successful prediction by Nate Silver of Barack Obama's reelection only reinforced the importance and perhaps oracle-like abilities of forecasting with data. Articles in business magazines warned executives to adopt data or be swallowed by a data-driven competitor. The Data Science Industrial Complex was in full force.
By 2016, every major news outlet had invested in a prediction algorithm to forecast the general election outcome. The vast, vast majority of them by and large suggested an overwhelming victory for the Democratic candidate, Hillary Clinton. Oh, how wrong they were.
Let's contrast how wrong they were as we compare it against the subprime mortgage crisis. One could argue that we learned a lot from the past. That interest in data science would give rise to avoiding past mistakes. Yes, it's true: since 2008—and 2012—news organizations hired data scientists, invested in polling research, created data teams, and spent more money ensuring they received good data.
Which begs the question: with all that time, money, effort, and education—what happened?3
Our Hypothesis
Why do data problems like this occur? We assign three causes: hard problems, lack of critical thinking, and poor communication.
First (as we said earlier), this stuff is complex. Many data problems are fundamentally difficult. Even with lots of data, the right tools and techniques, and the smartest analysts, mistakes happen. Predictions can and will be wrong. This is not a criticism of data and statistics. It's simply reality.
Second, some analysts and stakeholders stopped thinking critically about data problems. The Data Science Industrial Complex, in its hubris, painted a picture of certainty and simplicity, and a subset of people drank the proverbial “Kool-Aid.” Perhaps it's human nature—people don't want to admit they don't know what is going to happen. But a key part of thinking about and using data correctly is recognizing wrong decisions can happen. This means communicating and understanding risks and uncertainties. Somehow this message got lost. While we'd hope the tremendous progress in research and methods in data and analysis would sharpen everyone's critical thinking, it caused some to turn it off.
The third reason we think data problems continue to occur is poor communication between data scientists and decision makers. Even with the best intentions, results are often lost in translation. Decision makers don't speak the language because no one bothered to teach data literacy. And, frankly, data workers don't always explain things well. There's a communication gap.
DATA IN THE WORKPLACE
Your data problems might not bring down the global economy or incorrectly predict the next president of the United States, but the context of these stories is important. If miscommunication, misunderstanding, and lapses in critical thinking occur when the world is watching, they're probably happening in your workplace. In most cases, these are micro failures subtly reinforcing a culture without data literacy.
We know it's happened in our workplace, and it was partly our fault.
The Boardroom Scene
Fans of science fiction and adventure movies know this scene all too well: The hero is faced with a seemingly unsurmountable task and the world's leaders and scientists are brought together to discuss the situation. One scientist, the nerdiest among the group, proposes an idea dropping esoteric jargon before the general barks, “Speak English!” At this point, the viewer receives some exposition that explains what was meant. The idea of this plot point is to translate what is otherwise mission-critical information into something not just our hero—but the viewer—can understand.
We've discussed this movie trope often in our roles as researchers for the federal government. Why? Because it never seemed to unfold this way. In fact, what we saw early in our careers was often the opposite of this movie moment.
We presented our work to blank stares, listless head nodding, and occasional heavy eyelids. We watched as confused audiences seemed to receive what we were saying without question. They were either impressed by how smart we seemed or bored because they didn't get it. No one demanded we repeat what was said in a language everyone could understand. We saw something unfold that was dramatically different. It often unfolded like this:
Us: “Based on our supervised learning analysis of the binary response variable using multiple logistic regression,