Quantitative researchers exist in the exciting nexus where knowledge is created from
raw data. Through quantitative study of the human condition, we hope to gain insight
into basic, fascinating questions that humans have pondered for millennia. We (and
the quantitative psychologists that have preceded us) are therefore optimists above
all else. We believe that through systematic, rigorous study, we are able to gain
insight into behavior, psychological processes, and important outcomes that ultimately
can benefit the world and its inhabitants. Yet the promise of quantitative study of
psychology is also one of its greatest challenges: demonstrating in a convincing way
that quantification of behavioral, cognitive, biological, and psychological processes
is valid, and that the analyses we subject the numbers to are honest efforts at elucidation
rather than obfuscation.
We enter a new era of possibility as previously unimaginable technologies become available
to us. One example is fMRI, that some believe quantifies processes that reveal functions
of parts of the brain. Previously only imagined in science fiction, fMRI may be the
ultimate tool for the study of psychology, yet there are significant questions as
to what exactly it is that fMRI reveals, and how best to analyze and present those
data (e.g., Haller and Bartsch, 2009; Hemmelmann et al., 2009; e.g., Wang et al.,
2009; Yuanqing et al., 2009). Those who want to use this potentially paradigm-changing
methodology need to convince the community of science that what they are quantifying
and reporting really reflects what they say it does. In the same way, scientists who
want to study student achievement, intelligence, attitudes, overt behavior, intentions,
beliefs, emotions, stress, race/ethnicity, and indeed even health outcomes (which
are just a few of the important variables we as social scientists are interested in
measuring and analyzing) must redouble their efforts to convince the community of
consumers of science that our numbers really represent what we assume or propose that
they represent. At stake is nothing less than the integrity and future of our field.
Most of us have never seriously questioned whether the numbers we report are meaningful,
whether they represent the attributes and processes we believe them to. Our field
has a long history of loyal skeptics who question our assumptions, challenging our
tacit beliefs, debating important points. For example, one of the most common procedures
performed in our field, Null Hypothesis Statistical Testing (NHST) grew out of vigorous
debates between Ronald Fisher and the collaborative team of Jerzey Neyman and Egon
Pearson; (Fisher, 1925; Neyman and Pearson, 1936), influencing how we perform statistical
inference throughout much of the 20th century (and today). However, NHST is also an
example of why our field needs to periodically revisit our assumptions and legacies
to determine if they are still valid. Today, NHST serves as a 20th century methodological
legacy that is increasingly being challenged (e.g., Killeen, 2008 and many others).
Other traditions and practices (e.g., creating sum scores for psychological scales
via simple averaging, excluding cases with missing values, to name but two of many)
deserve close scrutiny as to whether they are justified as best practices. To blindly
accept the dogma of the field without scholarly examination is to diminish what we
do. If we cannot convincingly demonstrate that the quantifications we work with are
substantively meaningful, that the procedures and strategies we use are the best way
to do things, if we cannot cogently answer the skeptics and critics, we have a problem.
I believe the greatest challenge to our field is to continue to demonstrate convincingly
that what we do is meaningful, important, and relevant. And I believe that we can
successfully rise to this challenge, and in the process become stronger as a field.
In order to encourage this rare type of collegial discourse, I have invited a prominent,
scholarly skeptic to join the editorial board of impressive quantitative scholars
to serve as the “loyal opposition” raising questions and challenging assumptions.
Those of you who are not on the editorial board but are interested in this epistemological
debate are encouraged to use this journal as a forum where we can thoughtfully explore
and (hopefully) defend our most important assumptions in the field.
In the introduction to my book, Best Practices in Quantitative Methods (Osborne, 2008),
I argue that quantitative researchers are under a moral and ethical imperative to
apply their skills in such a way to produce the most defensible, unbiased, generalizable,
and applicable results possible. Why? Because what we do has the potential to make
a difference (for better or worse). Inappropriate or misapplied quantitative techniques,
lack of attention to data quality, and inappropriate generalization can result in
unfortunate consequences: governments and organizations can waste resources on sub-optimal
interventions and decisions, educators can be inspired to abandon tried-and-true methods
for novel (yet inferior) pedagogies, health care workers can utilize sub-optimal treatments,
etc. Our profession has the potential to make a tremendous, continual contribution
to the well-being of humanity. But when we lose sight of the reason we want to do
research, we have the potential to do great harm. Just as getting a new drug to market
is valuable only if that drug actually improves the human condition in some way, pet
theories and lengthy publishing histories are all well and good, but they are only
valuable to the extent they make the world a better place in some small (or not so
small) way. We must be vigilant, as researchers, to keep this lesson foremost in our
minds, to keep challenging ourselves to make a difference, to practice our profession
using only superior methodology, and to continue questioning and examining our tacit
assumptions.
Psychology as a field, and quantitative psychology and measurement in particular,
has experienced explosive progress recently in terms of the choices of analytic techniques
and measurement options available. At the dawn of the 20th century, Student's t test
was just being broadly disseminated (Student, 1908), and most psychologists had to
perform calculations by hand, with paper and pencil. By the time I entered my doctoral
program in 1990, the field was embracing tools and techniques unimaginable decades
earlier: multivariate statistics, latent variable modeling, modern measurement methodologies,
multilevel modeling, sophisticated meta-analytic techniques, new estimation procedures,
and even tools that appear to assess physiological indicators of psychological activity.
I wonder what tools and techniques will be available to scholars at the end of this
century, and whether we would be able to comprehend them.
Our job is to help the field move toward this unknowable future. At this, the dawn
of the 21st century, there are remarkably promising signs. Researchers are beginning
to understand that strict null hypothesis statistical testing (NHST) is limiting and
provides an incomplete picture of results. More journals now require effect sizes,
confidence intervals, and other practices one might argue are well overdue. We have
more computing power in our cell phones these days than in the university and corporate
mainframes I started out programming 30 years ago. Our software tools are so powerful
and sophisticated that we now can ask questions of our data that were barely imagined
even a decade or two ago. We have ways of understanding measurement that allow us
to create ever more sophisticated quantifications of human attributes and behaviors.
Truly, this is a wonderful time to be a quantitative researcher. I believe we must
use these ever more effective tools to renew and freshen the field of quantitative
methods through evidence-based promotion of best practices. Research-based conclusions
are only as good as the evidence they are based on, and only to the extent that the
analyses are done in the best way possible. It seems every year we are hearing about
new, expensive “miracle drugs” that initially looked quite promising from the available
evidence, but then are found to either cause serious, sometimes deadly side effects,
or turn out to be no more effective than simple, cheap, commonly available medicines.
Sometimes it is better to do nothing for a patient. Sometimes standard practice or
even archaic practice (using leeches, honey, or aspirin, e.g., ) is more effective
than snazzy new drugs or procedures. And sometimes the newest is best. We need to
be able to clearly, empirically demonstrate the best, most defensible way to do things
(best practices) and motivate practicing researchers to use them. Our goal should
be to leverage our skill at quantitative methodology to study our own tools; what
techniques give us the best, most replicable, most powerful, least error-prone outcomes,
and under what conditions? And what do researchers need to do to make sure their analyses
turn out as well as possible? We, as a field, need to move beyond turf wars, opinion,
petty careerism, and evangelism to an evidence-based body of knowledge that researchers
in other areas of the discipline can use to improve the odds that their work will
have the best possible outcome. We need to allow certain archaic or sub-optimal techniques
to sunset, retaining and promoting best practices, whether they are new or a century
old.
It is my hope that this journal can help us move toward just such an evidence-based,
clearly articulated future, and I hope you will join the efforts of this tremendously
talented, diverse, international editorial board to make it happen. I believe that
we will be able to meet these challenges, leverage these technologies, and leave a
legacy of excellence for future generations of scholars to follow.
Yet we cannot forget that the path to the unknowable future is rarely clear and easy.
Our field has seen an unprecedented contraction in recent years. Quantitative training
needs are expanding exponentially, yet doctoral programs in quantitative research
methods (and students interested in specializing in those methods) are declining in
numbers. For example, the American Psychological Association's Task Force on Quantitative
Psychology reported just 23 Quantitative Psychology doctoral programs in North America,
each with a handful (or fewer) faculty, and many with unused capacity to train more
students than they had qualified applicants. At a time when we have the power to leverage
tremendous amounts of data to answer important questions, why does there seem to be
a lack of interest in specializing in this discipline? Is it possible that because
our tools are so easy to use, with point-and-click interfaces, that there is now a
perception that students do not need as much training in quantitative methods? Of
course, the reverse is true. The more sophisticated the software has become, the more
training quantitative researchers need to make informed choices about what they are
doing and ensure appropriate interpretation of the results. Our challenge is to maintain
a dialogue with our students and colleagues about the ever-increasing need for methodological
training, and to define what training is necessary and sufficient for a scholar in
the 21st century.
I wonder if the lack of interest in Quantitative training has to do with a very real
lack of diversity in the field. At least within North America, the vast majority of
faculty in quantitative methods are Caucasian males, and almost two-thirds of students
in these programs are Caucasian as well. Do we have a diversity issue in the field?
If so, how do we address it? The APA Task Force notes that Quantitative Psychology
lags behind the sciences and engineering in diversity. Our editorial board is one
of the most diverse I have seen, which is a tremendous asset. I challenge us (and
our colleagues reading this) to constructively examine and address this apparent gap
in our field in some meaningful, scholarly way. Let Frontiers in Quantitative Psychology
and Measurement be a forum not only for discussion of methods and best practices,
excellence in application and debate as to epistemology, but perhaps as important,
scholarship and debate around the training of quantitative psychologists, statisticians,
psychometricians, and researchers in the social sciences. Our field needs a forum
to explore important trends, discuss troubling issues, and investigate possible solutions.
If our field continues down this path, all social science will suffer.
As our field has developed increasingly sophisticated and interesting options for
analysis of data, we become increasingly at risk for making errors of inference if
we stop attending to basic issues such as data quality. Our software is now seductive
in that we can immediately begin clicking and analyzing data without realizing that
our results might be substantially biased or invalidated by poor data quality. As
point of reference, one of my recent publications pointed out that in top educational
psychology journals, almost no authors reported testing assumptions or data quality
in their articles. This troubles me, and I hope it troubles you. We must continue
to motivate researchers to attend to basics before moving to the fun, advanced analytic
techniques available to us. But it also points out a larger issue- software has become
increasingly complex and sophisticated in many ways. One challenge I would like us
to meet is to create a series of articles that guide readers on best practices in
using particular software packages. I have been working to build bridges between FQPM
and communities that specialize in using statistical software, and I hope that in
the near future we will see this journal become a repository of specialized information
on how to get the most of the incredibly rich software we have access to.
In this journal you will probably find concepts foreign to you, and probably some
things you don't agree with. That's exactly my goal. The world doesn't need another
journal promulgating 20th century thinking, genuflecting at the altar of p < 0.05.
I challenge us to challenge tradition. Shrug off the shackles of 20th century methodology
and thinking, and the next time you sit down to examine your hard-earned data, challenge
yourself to implement one new methodology that represents a best practice. Use Rasch
measurement or IRT rather than averaging items to form scale scores. Calculate p(rep)
in addition to power and p. Use HLM to study change over time, or use propensity scores
to create more sound comparison groups. Use meta-analysis to leverage the findings
of dozens of studies rather than merely adding one more to the literature. Choose
just one best practice, and use it. And each time afterward, add one more.
There it is. The gauntlet has been cast down. Do you pick it up, accepting my challenge?
I and the board of editors look forward to reading your articles!
Conflict of Interest Statement
The authors declare that the research was conducted in the absence of any commercial
or financial relationships that could be construed as a potential conflict of interest.