Recently, reporters have been using a variety of statistical terms that some seem not to fully understand. During my education, there was even an article of required reading warning us to look for ways people deliberately manipulate statistics to prove a point.
A former professor of mine, a research teacher, used to refer to the subject as "sadistics". This was his way of expressing the difficulty of understanding the topic, as well as his aversion to it. A lot of people feel the same way.
There are, for instance, three ways of determining the "average" of a set of figures. They are called the mean, the median and the mode.
The median is, literally, the middle number. If you have 61 numbers in your sample or set, you count down the list until you reach the thirty-first number and that is the median. Once again, it is a form of computing the average.
The mode, on the other hand, is the most frequent number. If you have the same 61 numbers, one or two of each value, and the lowest number is repeated several times, then the lowest number is the mode.
The arithmetic mean is determined by adding (computing the sum of) all sixty-one numbers and then dividing the sum by the number of numbers. In our example this is sixty-one.
In the following hypothetical example, let us compute the three different averages and talk abut the results. I have numbered the set of figures for ease in finding the median.
Our Hypothetical Sample
1. 15,000,000 32. 15,000
2. 15,000,000 33. 15,000
3. 5,000,000 34. 15,000
4. 5,000,000 35. 15,000
5. 5,000,000 36. 15,000
6. 5,000,000 37. 15,000
7. 5,000,000 38. 15,000
8. 5,000,000 39. 15,000
9. 500,000 40. 15,000
10. 500,000 41. 15,000
11. 500,000 42. 15,000
12. 500,000 43. 15,000
13. 500,000 44. 15,000
14. 500,000 45. 15,000
15. 500,000 46. 15,000
16. 500,000 47. 15,000
17. 500,000 48. 15,000
18. 500,000 49. 15,000
19. 25,000 50. 15,000
20. 25,000 51. 15,000
21. 25,000 52. 15,000
22. 25,000 53. 15,000
23. 25,000 54. 15,000
24. 25,000 55. 15,000
25. 25,000 56. 15,000
26. 25,000 57. 15,000
27. 25,000 58. 15,000
28. 25,000 59. 15,000
29. 15,000 60. 15,000
30. 15,000 61. 15,000
31. 15,000
In the above example, it is easy to determine the median and the mode. Both of them are 15,000. The arithmetic mean, however, is quite different. This figure is radically skewed higher because of the large figures at the top. The arithmetic mean is 1,077,786.885. Quite a difference, isn't it?
So, let's play with the figures a little. Are you trying to prove that American seniors are about to become the richest age group in the country? Would you use the mean, the median or the mode? The median and the mode would show a low figure, wouldn't they? They are both $15,000. To prove American seniors are rich, one would have to use the arithmetic mean at $1,077,786.88. But would this be a true representation of the wealth of American citizens? Not at all. Most American citizens represented by this figure, have $15,000, not over $1,000,000. In fact, it would take a person with $15,000 a year income over 71 years with no withholding and no spending to accumulate a figure commensurate with this arithmetic mean. You dream the impossible dream.
One of the worst interpretations of statistics is made when interpreting the results of group comparison studies. This kind of study is used a lot in medical research, including the dental plaque compared with heart disease research. A former local news anchor was interpreting the results as plaque on the teeth is causing heart trouble. No can do! The best we can say of correlational evidence is that the two groups "co-relate." We cannot assume a causal relationship from correlational data. It could be the plaque does cause heart trouble. It could be that heart trouble causes plaque on the teeth. It could even be an accidental coincidence.
Remember to check the figures of your reporters, your doctors, your editorialists when making your decisions. All are subject to error. A few intend to mislead. Oh yes, and please check my figures to see if I made any errors when keying in the sample. To err is human, or so the great writer once said.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Thursday, August 22, 2013
A Bully Is Just A Bully
This Week was reduced to a shouting match again the other Sunday. As a result, we've come away with little information of use to this world.
Verbal bully behavior, whether in one's personal life, or on television is regrettable. I don't know why people think that the person who shouts the loudest is the one who is right. By their shouting behavior, apparently a lot of talk show participants do think so. At least they believe they win when they do it.
People just are not always going to agree. That happens to be a good thing, not bad. It's obvious that most discussion programs are set up with representatives from both sides of an issue. But once in a while, more care needs to be taken with the personality types that are mixed together. Some guests of bigger than life standing deserve to be heard, even when we disagree with them. Others, especially the wannabe pundits, can be especially cantankerous. Last Sunday, there was a mix of loud mouths and quiet spoken individuals. When the quiet ones began expressing opinions, they got talked over again and again. Sometimes it is difficult to understand why we are subjected to loud, highly opinionated people who haven't that much to offer.
Being a woman, I'm all for the success of the female gender (I almost want to say species). But get some assertiveness training ladies. Being assertive means getting your points across in a calm, consistent and respectful way. It includes listening to others. It does not mean shouting down someone who disagrees with you just because you are louder and meaner than they.
I'm reminded of my own introduction to assertiveness training which began with the statement that overly aggressive people need assertiveness training just as much as passive people do.
Perhaps discussions such as the Round Table need to formulate some rules for participation similar to those used in debates. Each person might be told they have X seconds or minutes to respond and that they cannot interrupt or shout each other down. Then, stick to the rules.
I imagine most viewers watch these shows to learn, not to witness some brou-ha-ha staged with bullies. After all a bully is just that -- and it doesn't make the bully right.
Verbal bully behavior, whether in one's personal life, or on television is regrettable. I don't know why people think that the person who shouts the loudest is the one who is right. By their shouting behavior, apparently a lot of talk show participants do think so. At least they believe they win when they do it.
People just are not always going to agree. That happens to be a good thing, not bad. It's obvious that most discussion programs are set up with representatives from both sides of an issue. But once in a while, more care needs to be taken with the personality types that are mixed together. Some guests of bigger than life standing deserve to be heard, even when we disagree with them. Others, especially the wannabe pundits, can be especially cantankerous. Last Sunday, there was a mix of loud mouths and quiet spoken individuals. When the quiet ones began expressing opinions, they got talked over again and again. Sometimes it is difficult to understand why we are subjected to loud, highly opinionated people who haven't that much to offer.
Being a woman, I'm all for the success of the female gender (I almost want to say species). But get some assertiveness training ladies. Being assertive means getting your points across in a calm, consistent and respectful way. It includes listening to others. It does not mean shouting down someone who disagrees with you just because you are louder and meaner than they.
I'm reminded of my own introduction to assertiveness training which began with the statement that overly aggressive people need assertiveness training just as much as passive people do.
Perhaps discussions such as the Round Table need to formulate some rules for participation similar to those used in debates. Each person might be told they have X seconds or minutes to respond and that they cannot interrupt or shout each other down. Then, stick to the rules.
I imagine most viewers watch these shows to learn, not to witness some brou-ha-ha staged with bullies. After all a bully is just that -- and it doesn't make the bully right.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Hackers, Pranksters and Sociopaths
It has long puzzled me why low-lives go to such great lengths to figure out creative methods of stealing from others. On a recent newscast, there was a real pip. A woman asked a man if she could cool off by taking a swim in his pool. She proceeded to strip down to her birthday suit and entertain him. All the while, her partner was ripping off the lascivious gentleman.
There are many scams designed to part others, especially senior citizens, from their cash and belongings. I want to ask all of the above, "Why don't you use that creativity and focus that effort on becoming the next George Washington Carver, Beyoncé, Jimmy Carter or Dr. Dre? Why not use your gifts for the good of mankind and go down in the annals of history as a great American, Greek, Englishman, African, Scot or Russian? Why do you put yourselves on the downward slope toward infamy and prison, or even a violent death?
I read somewhere that a hacker was asked why he spent his time in illegal activity instead of developing hardware or software like Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. Do you know the hacker's answer? "Because I can." That's no news. A lot of people can hack. Some of them use that ability to the benefit of their fellow man as well as their own bank accounts. Why do you suppose that these people choose evil intent? They would make more money working in Silicon Valley, where they actually have job openings, than they can scam out of old people. Old people, with rare exceptions, don't have anything. I don't know where some of these columnists get the figures saying they do. Most seniors receive around $1050 per month or less. If a man has a wife, they don't get the whole amount for both of them. The collective amount is figured downward as close to the poverty level as they can get it.
I don't know if these criminals are just immature pranksters or if they are full-blown sociopaths. Perhaps there are some of both involved.
I wrote an earlier draft of this article a week or so ago. Before that day was over, I had received a computerized phone call telling me my debit card was no longer authorized for use on the internet, but I could fix the problem by calling a certain number. Since I've never used a debit card on the internet, I cut the call off. I called my bank, described the situation and told about hanging up. She told me that was good because it's a scam that is prevalent right now. Another one.
How wonderful this world would be if the scam artists and thieves would use their wonderful creativity for inventions and innovations. Instead, person after person, male and female, young and old, choose to use their creative gifts to scam the old, rob the rich, relieve the poor of their few precious belongings. And then they head for church on Sunday and sing the praises of the good Lord as if they, themselves, have spent the previous week honoring God, their parents and a beloved grandmother.
There is one woman I've encountered in Aldi's stores. When she gets parallel to me in another aisle, a buzzer goes off. I'm talking different Aldi's here. The first time, the buzzer was so loud it startled everyone in the vicinity. The last time, she had quieted it about fifty per cent. I'd think it was some store buzzer, except the woman's appearance is quite distinctive -- tall, attractive, black, fifties or early sixties. When the buzzer goes off, she is there. I've heard there is a way to get someone's credit card number, but I don't know how it is done. Is that what's happening? The local news told a story that this is occurring a lot right now.
This kind of scammer is not alone. Every time there is a major storm, dishonest tree trimmers and roofers come out. People mail letters telling others they have won a prize they can collect by sending in money. Messages are received that a loved one is in trouble in a foreign country, so please send dollars.
Identities are stolen. On-line banking is sabotaged. One Asian man called and told me I had used my credit card to order pizza. Wrong, Mister. They won't deliver pizza to my neighborhood. I get my pizzas out of the freezer section at the grocery store.
If these people wrote a mystery instead of being a mystery, do you suppose they might win a Pulitzer? We've barely scratched the surface of how important they can become. Why would they prefer a prison jumpsuit over the tuxedo they could wear to an awards ceremony if their rap song hit number one?
Wouldn't it be nice if all individuals used their God-given gifts for something other than trying to outwit the vulnerable among us? It can't bring much self-satisfaction to prey on easy targets. A hit song or best-selling book would be much more fulfilling.
There are many scams designed to part others, especially senior citizens, from their cash and belongings. I want to ask all of the above, "Why don't you use that creativity and focus that effort on becoming the next George Washington Carver, Beyoncé, Jimmy Carter or Dr. Dre? Why not use your gifts for the good of mankind and go down in the annals of history as a great American, Greek, Englishman, African, Scot or Russian? Why do you put yourselves on the downward slope toward infamy and prison, or even a violent death?
I read somewhere that a hacker was asked why he spent his time in illegal activity instead of developing hardware or software like Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. Do you know the hacker's answer? "Because I can." That's no news. A lot of people can hack. Some of them use that ability to the benefit of their fellow man as well as their own bank accounts. Why do you suppose that these people choose evil intent? They would make more money working in Silicon Valley, where they actually have job openings, than they can scam out of old people. Old people, with rare exceptions, don't have anything. I don't know where some of these columnists get the figures saying they do. Most seniors receive around $1050 per month or less. If a man has a wife, they don't get the whole amount for both of them. The collective amount is figured downward as close to the poverty level as they can get it.
I don't know if these criminals are just immature pranksters or if they are full-blown sociopaths. Perhaps there are some of both involved.
I wrote an earlier draft of this article a week or so ago. Before that day was over, I had received a computerized phone call telling me my debit card was no longer authorized for use on the internet, but I could fix the problem by calling a certain number. Since I've never used a debit card on the internet, I cut the call off. I called my bank, described the situation and told about hanging up. She told me that was good because it's a scam that is prevalent right now. Another one.
How wonderful this world would be if the scam artists and thieves would use their wonderful creativity for inventions and innovations. Instead, person after person, male and female, young and old, choose to use their creative gifts to scam the old, rob the rich, relieve the poor of their few precious belongings. And then they head for church on Sunday and sing the praises of the good Lord as if they, themselves, have spent the previous week honoring God, their parents and a beloved grandmother.
There is one woman I've encountered in Aldi's stores. When she gets parallel to me in another aisle, a buzzer goes off. I'm talking different Aldi's here. The first time, the buzzer was so loud it startled everyone in the vicinity. The last time, she had quieted it about fifty per cent. I'd think it was some store buzzer, except the woman's appearance is quite distinctive -- tall, attractive, black, fifties or early sixties. When the buzzer goes off, she is there. I've heard there is a way to get someone's credit card number, but I don't know how it is done. Is that what's happening? The local news told a story that this is occurring a lot right now.
This kind of scammer is not alone. Every time there is a major storm, dishonest tree trimmers and roofers come out. People mail letters telling others they have won a prize they can collect by sending in money. Messages are received that a loved one is in trouble in a foreign country, so please send dollars.
Identities are stolen. On-line banking is sabotaged. One Asian man called and told me I had used my credit card to order pizza. Wrong, Mister. They won't deliver pizza to my neighborhood. I get my pizzas out of the freezer section at the grocery store.
If these people wrote a mystery instead of being a mystery, do you suppose they might win a Pulitzer? We've barely scratched the surface of how important they can become. Why would they prefer a prison jumpsuit over the tuxedo they could wear to an awards ceremony if their rap song hit number one?
Wouldn't it be nice if all individuals used their God-given gifts for something other than trying to outwit the vulnerable among us? It can't bring much self-satisfaction to prey on easy targets. A hit song or best-selling book would be much more fulfilling.
Are You Happy?
Somebody asked me the other day, "Are you happy?"
Without thinking, I responded, "Content. Content is good. I am grateful for content."
Content -- ". . . satisfied with what one has or is, not wanting more or anything else."
Happy -- " . . . delighted, pleased, or glad as over a particular thing." Webster
I stand corrected, God. I am happy, not content. Content is definitely not the American way. I'm reminded of the television commercial of a young man riding a bike, saying he got the inspiration or goal of owning a bicycle shop while riding a bike. Then he says when a goal is met, we make another. Now that's the American way. Being happy with the status quo keeps one from being miserable over stuff we don't have. Being content with it, on the other hand, is to give up growth and progress and goal seeking. To be content is to atrophy emotionally.
It is being a little discontent that keeps us striving and the world twirling. It is the stuff behind inventions. It motivates us to get off our behinds and strive again. It's not just trying to keep up with the Joneses. It's trying to better oneself.
Now competition with oneself -- that is the key to true internal success. How can I make myself better today than I was yesterday?
Some endeavors, such as sports, have stats that show the fastest mile run or the tallest mountain climbed. But when there are no existing statistics to motivate us to achieve -- much less anybody recording our efforts -- how can we measure our own selves? We set up a competition with ourselves. We walked one mile today, how about more tomorrow? We wrote three articles this week, how about four next week? If I can clear three shelves today, I can certainly do more tomorrow.
Goal setting and fulfilling is the stuff that keeps us thriving. It is what makes us human.
No God, I am not content after all. I will settle now for happy.
Without thinking, I responded, "Content. Content is good. I am grateful for content."
Content -- ". . . satisfied with what one has or is, not wanting more or anything else."
Happy -- " . . . delighted, pleased, or glad as over a particular thing." Webster
I stand corrected, God. I am happy, not content. Content is definitely not the American way. I'm reminded of the television commercial of a young man riding a bike, saying he got the inspiration or goal of owning a bicycle shop while riding a bike. Then he says when a goal is met, we make another. Now that's the American way. Being happy with the status quo keeps one from being miserable over stuff we don't have. Being content with it, on the other hand, is to give up growth and progress and goal seeking. To be content is to atrophy emotionally.
It is being a little discontent that keeps us striving and the world twirling. It is the stuff behind inventions. It motivates us to get off our behinds and strive again. It's not just trying to keep up with the Joneses. It's trying to better oneself.
Now competition with oneself -- that is the key to true internal success. How can I make myself better today than I was yesterday?
Some endeavors, such as sports, have stats that show the fastest mile run or the tallest mountain climbed. But when there are no existing statistics to motivate us to achieve -- much less anybody recording our efforts -- how can we measure our own selves? We set up a competition with ourselves. We walked one mile today, how about more tomorrow? We wrote three articles this week, how about four next week? If I can clear three shelves today, I can certainly do more tomorrow.
Goal setting and fulfilling is the stuff that keeps us thriving. It is what makes us human.
No God, I am not content after all. I will settle now for happy.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Encourage Their Dreams
It's strange how the smallest of events can affect our futures for "forever". I haven't been a very competitive individual since elementary school. This is partly due to being more of a reactive than proactive type. It tends to show in my taking a seat in the back row of the classroom and attempting to make myself small during class participation. It shows in my too relaxed attitude about grades.
Most probably it pertains to getting the fight knocked right out of me at an early age. There was no one thing that caused my reticence to thirst for the jugular, but one event does remain toward the top of the list.
While in high school, I was very active in my church. I have memory of the pastor's wife and one of our girl's group leaders orchestrating me into leadership roles. I would like to think they were fostering some spark of leadership they saw in me. However, truth be told, they probably knew that if I were a leader, my mother would see to it whatever work there was would get done.
I don't know how long I was president of the young women's organization. It had been more than one year. The routine was for my mother to instruct me to tell all the girls we would pick them up. I would tell them. Then she would drive around all over our small city picking up people whom she deposited at someone's home for the meeting. Then, she would drive us all home. One particular night, every stop we made, nobody ran out to the car. I was sent to the door to enquire and was told that another individual had picked them up. Same individual each time.
My mother's wrath increased with each stop. I still feel the knots in my stomach as I pressed up against the car door trying to escape her flailing hands. Of course, it had to be my fault they were not there. They could not possibly have been the ones who were wrong.
Once we arrived at the meeting, it became a no brainer we were in the throes of a coup. It was the night of our annual elections. My cousin nominated me, but to a person every vote went to the individual who had picked up the group. I don't know if she actively campaigned for the office, or if it just turned out that way. I do know that the one hundred per cent rejection of my peers, coupled with the toxic temper of my mother, did keep me from ever wanting to hold office again. Even since retirement, although I transcribed the minutes of a group where I served, I refused to bear the label of secretary. Responsibility without authority has become my way of life.
Don't get me wrong, the girl was more than welcome to the gavel. If she had asked me for it, I would have given it gladly. It was the pain inflicted by the group rejection that turned me off. Ever since, I have deemed competition off the ball court or out of the business world to be an act of unfriendliness.
For a while, the trauma resulted in a reluctance to achieve. Thankfully, I recovered. Now I take the attitude to heck with them. I am whatever I am and they can like it or lump it. I will not sacrifice my achievements, assuming I have some, to get along with the crowd.
I don't remember what happened after that. I don't recall deciding not to go to further meetings, but I don't remember attending any either. I did start working that year and it may be the group fell to the need to study once in a while. Possibly my mother was just so grateful not to have to waste her time and gas driving around everywhere that she finally quit making me go. The feeling that the new president was not really my friend, after all, was one that never left.
It's not everyone who gets an extra look -- with hindsight -- into a past event. When my paternal grandmother died, quite a few of my mother's friends came for visitation. The girl's mother was there. After she elicited the apparently satisfying answer that I, as well as her daughter, was divorced, she moved in for the kill. She wanted to know if I did anything other than being a divorced mother of three. I will never forget the vindictive look on her face when I said I was a school psychologist.
Of course, by this time, the whole country was aware of poisonous cheerleader mothers. At least one was so sick that she arranged a kill on her daughter's competition.
The backward glance did show me the "new president" may not have been so two-faced after all. She may have been following directions of a hateful, spiteful mother who couldn't compete with her own generation, so took it out on the next.
It does make me extra careful in my interactions with young people today. I know what out-of-control competitive parents can do to the future of impressionable kids. I believe we should encourage dreams in others, especially the young, wherever we can.
Most probably it pertains to getting the fight knocked right out of me at an early age. There was no one thing that caused my reticence to thirst for the jugular, but one event does remain toward the top of the list.
While in high school, I was very active in my church. I have memory of the pastor's wife and one of our girl's group leaders orchestrating me into leadership roles. I would like to think they were fostering some spark of leadership they saw in me. However, truth be told, they probably knew that if I were a leader, my mother would see to it whatever work there was would get done.
I don't know how long I was president of the young women's organization. It had been more than one year. The routine was for my mother to instruct me to tell all the girls we would pick them up. I would tell them. Then she would drive around all over our small city picking up people whom she deposited at someone's home for the meeting. Then, she would drive us all home. One particular night, every stop we made, nobody ran out to the car. I was sent to the door to enquire and was told that another individual had picked them up. Same individual each time.
My mother's wrath increased with each stop. I still feel the knots in my stomach as I pressed up against the car door trying to escape her flailing hands. Of course, it had to be my fault they were not there. They could not possibly have been the ones who were wrong.
Once we arrived at the meeting, it became a no brainer we were in the throes of a coup. It was the night of our annual elections. My cousin nominated me, but to a person every vote went to the individual who had picked up the group. I don't know if she actively campaigned for the office, or if it just turned out that way. I do know that the one hundred per cent rejection of my peers, coupled with the toxic temper of my mother, did keep me from ever wanting to hold office again. Even since retirement, although I transcribed the minutes of a group where I served, I refused to bear the label of secretary. Responsibility without authority has become my way of life.
Don't get me wrong, the girl was more than welcome to the gavel. If she had asked me for it, I would have given it gladly. It was the pain inflicted by the group rejection that turned me off. Ever since, I have deemed competition off the ball court or out of the business world to be an act of unfriendliness.
For a while, the trauma resulted in a reluctance to achieve. Thankfully, I recovered. Now I take the attitude to heck with them. I am whatever I am and they can like it or lump it. I will not sacrifice my achievements, assuming I have some, to get along with the crowd.
I don't remember what happened after that. I don't recall deciding not to go to further meetings, but I don't remember attending any either. I did start working that year and it may be the group fell to the need to study once in a while. Possibly my mother was just so grateful not to have to waste her time and gas driving around everywhere that she finally quit making me go. The feeling that the new president was not really my friend, after all, was one that never left.
It's not everyone who gets an extra look -- with hindsight -- into a past event. When my paternal grandmother died, quite a few of my mother's friends came for visitation. The girl's mother was there. After she elicited the apparently satisfying answer that I, as well as her daughter, was divorced, she moved in for the kill. She wanted to know if I did anything other than being a divorced mother of three. I will never forget the vindictive look on her face when I said I was a school psychologist.
Of course, by this time, the whole country was aware of poisonous cheerleader mothers. At least one was so sick that she arranged a kill on her daughter's competition.
The backward glance did show me the "new president" may not have been so two-faced after all. She may have been following directions of a hateful, spiteful mother who couldn't compete with her own generation, so took it out on the next.
It does make me extra careful in my interactions with young people today. I know what out-of-control competitive parents can do to the future of impressionable kids. I believe we should encourage dreams in others, especially the young, wherever we can.
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