What Michael said #1

The news that Firstborn has elected to take a module on statistics during her Masters’ year brought a smile to my face. Actually, I laughed hysterically until she pointed out that Management or I may have to help her out – it’s a long time since I studied statistics!

In fact, she may do well to ignore to anything that I say – after all, why change the habit of a lifetime! More seriously, that’s because my perspective on statistics and particularly on significance testing in classical statistics is that a lot of it seems rather arbitrary. Why should a particular outcome be considered statistically significant just because the odds of it happening by chance and chance alone are 1 in 20? Why not 1 in 19 or 1 in 21 or 1 in 50,000,000? And I’m not alone in thinking this.

As a post-graduate student at York University in the 1980s (maths, stats and computing for masochists and the innumerate), one of the highlights of the week was a pub quiz in the adjacent village of Heslington. The question master, Peter Lee, was a lecturer in the Maths and Statistics Department who later wrote a book on Bayesian statistics and commented in his Forward that he delved into the Bayesian world because he was dissatisfied with the arbitrary nature of significance testing in classical statistics. Now, I’m nowhere near numerate enough to discuss the finer points of frequentist versus Bayesian statistics, but the same underlying concern of arbitrariness struck me too.

Even within the more classical school, you can still see concerns. Modern papers with titles such as “The insignificance of significance testing“, or variants thereof, abound and exist alongside the older and more literary disclaimer of John Nelder, one of the founders of generalised linear modelling, who, in his overview of a 1971 British Ecological Society Symposium on Mathematical Models in Biology proclaimed:

Fisher’s famous paper of 1922, which quantified information almost half a century ago, may be taken as the fountainhead from which developed a flow of statistical papers, soon to become a flood. This flood, as most floods, contains flotsam much of which, unfortunately, has come to rest in many text books. Everyone will have his own pet assortment of flotsam; mine include most of the theory of significance testing, including multiple comparison tests, and non parametric statistics“.

Interestingly, Nelder was a later successor to Fisher as Director of the Statistics Department at the Rothamsted Research Station. I don’t know whether his quote deprecates Fisher’s work or the fact that followers often follow blindly without the insight into the subject that the originator had – I suspect the latter in Fisher’s case – and you certainly see that in fisheries research, my profession.

I did wonder whether the apparent post-1960s disenchantment with classical significance testing was due in part to the advent of electronic computers as a result of which more numerically intensive approaches to statistical modelling could be developed. Then I remembered a quote I once read in book first published in 1943, The Fish Gate, by Michael Graham (one of the most insightful leaders of fisheries research in the 20th century and the chap after whom the title of this post is framed). There will be more about him in future posts, but for now his concerns with statistical testing and statistical power had nothing to do with developments in computing power:

What Michael said:

In this century we have admitted this ‘Normal’ curve into all our counsels. It is of so wide an application that its professors have come to smell of priestcraft, setting up arbitrary standards by which to judge the significance of everything that we have claimed to achieve. They have real power; but it is of necromancy, as when they solve a problem by a short excursion into n-dimensional space. They ride brooms if ever man did“.

Postscript: I intentionally used the phrase ‘electronic computers’ in the penultimate paragraph above, even though it has a sort of antiquated feel to it; isn’t ‘computer’ enough? Well, no actually! At least not in the context of commenting on work from an era predating the modern age of computing. Delving into the fisheries research literature it is possible to find reference to ‘an experienced computer’ in the bible of fisheries research, Beverton and Holt’s 1957 magnum opus: ‘On the dynamics of exploited fish populations’. In this instance, the ‘computer’ is actually a living, breathing person, not a machine. So there!

Enough of this nunsense …

I don’t intend this blog to be political, but the recent stooshie about French Mediterranean beach resorts promoting religious intolerance by banning the burka made me think …

Although a secular state, France is a predominantly Catholic country with its own religious conventions, so the questions of the day are: do nuns go paddling at the beach? If so, what do they wear and should it be banned too?

Habit of a lifetime
The habit of a lifetime

Nuff said!

Postscript: I found the illustration, above, by googling ‘nuns paddling’. Bit of an eye-opener there for a naïve north country lad!

Priscilla, Queen of the Laybys

Well, Priscilla and I have now spent a couple of nights together and I have to say things are looking good between us. Our first trip was over to Ullapool to scout out the area as a base to cycle from. Looks good! Free all-day car parking near the ferry terminal should be fine for a few hours out on the bike and the nearby public loos with a shower facility mean that I can avoid the campervan equivalent of a bed bath to clean up afterwards. There’s also loads of convenient off-road laybys for overnighting, so no need for site fees 🙂

After looking over Ullapool we pootered back eastwards to lay-up close to Rosemarkie on the Moray Firth so that I could get to Chanonry Point early the next day to view the Moray Firth dolphins (parking at the Point is next to impossible for late arrivers). I got further east than anticipated and overnighted at the Clootie Well near Avoch in a small forest car park. It was quite spooky due to the cloots hanging from the trees. These are rags left by folk seeking for their ills to be cured; they provide an eery backdrop in the dark.

Priscilla at rest (at the Clootie Well)
Priscilla resting quietly at the Clootie Well

The car park was quiet other than for the owls hooting through the night and the local dogging fraternity (… only joking, to the best of my knowledge no dogging occurred even though the car park bore a striking resemblance to that of the ‘Camping’ episode in the TV show ‘Not Going Out’ where Lee, the show’s chief protagonist, tried to prove his manliness by joining his mates on a camping weekend in the middle of a dark, spooky forest that turned out to be … you’ve guessed it … a dogging hotspot).

So no ‘canines’, but the dolphins were around the following morning porpoising gently rather than putting on a proper show for us, and the sun, although welcome, was in exactly the wrong place to photograph them. Still, it was a splendid situation and I can recommend the Rosemarkie Beach Café for a late brunch.

Dolphins swimmin porpoisefully at Chanonry Point
Dolphins swimming porpoisefully at Chanonry Point, photographed directly into the sun

The second trip was to overnight at Ballater. Free parking in the village centre provided the base for a 40 mile ride from Deeside across to Donside via Glen Gairn and the Old Military Road. The first 12 miles included some very steep ramps (see ‘Bring back the birch’, May) and due to the excess baggage that I’m still carrying there were a couple that I had to push up rather than pedal. After that the worst was over and there were some terrific downhill runs before stopping for coffee in Bellabeg; itself winding down quietly after the weekend’s highland games at the Lonach Gathering. The return leg to Ballater via the Muir of Dinnet Nature Reserve was altogether easier even though the hills at the start of the day had rather knackered me. Still, it wasn’t work and the sun was shining so I didn’t mind. I strongly suspect that this may become a favourite cycling route

Muir of Dinnett Nature Reserve
Muir of Dinnett Nature Reserve

Another lay-by, another night. A bit noisy with passing traffic this time, but up with the lark for a bacon butty breakfast in Ballater and a supposedly gentle ride along the 10 miles of tarmac to Loch Muick. Well, under normal circumstances it would have been gentle, even if it is mostly an uphill drag along the glen; however, yesterday’s hills had been more tiring than I thought so it was a bit tougher than it should otherwise have been, but coming back? Glorious! Downhill all the way (in a good way, unlike post-middle-age life generally)!

So, that’s a couple of trips out with Priscilla and two great successes, both helped by the arrival of a little bit of fine weather. We really do live in a beautiful part of the world (it helps when the sun is shining) and to be out and about breathing in the freshest of air and looking at the most splendid of views is truly invigorating – especially when everyone else is at work!

Things that I wish I’d said …

Following on from my previous post, I have always been impressed and rather humbled by the ability of my international colleagues to conduct our business in what is, for them, a non-native language. This admiration extends particularly to their participation in what can be at times quite intense and argumentative discussions.

Consequently I just loved this quote from an exasperated Swedish colleague during a ‘lively’ discussion of the draft text of our current meeting report. She demonstrated her command of the English language with the following:

It’s this kind of sloppy decision making that’s going to f**k -up the whole thing!

I couldn’t have put it better myself!

Soft skills and me …

Having spent more than 30 years honing and fine-tuning the sort of diplomatic skills necessary to work effectively in the national and international fisheries science arena, I was delighted to be told by a colleague before a particularly ‘difficult’ session of an international coordination meeting that:

There’s no need for Maggie to go with you, you’re bolshie enough on own”.

Quotes that made me laugh #13

In my days as an early-career fishery scientist (to avoid being ageist we’re no longer allowed to refer to young scientists as, er, young scientists) I was thrown in at the deep end of a couple of contentious issues, one of which entailed the development in the 1980s of a harpoon fishery for basking sharks in the Clyde Sea area.

Given the public distaste for launching harpoons at large docile animals, coupled to the greater vulnerability of sharks to over-fishing and the short-lived nature of historical basking shark fisheries off the Scottish west coast, the renaissance of such a fishery attracted a lot of unfavourable press.

Yours truly was asked to carry out a literature review to navigate between the various perspectives and to give an objective overview. That was something of a challenge because exclaiming “Trust me, I’m a government scientist” is not the sort of clarion call that is viewed sympathetically by media outlets. In those days even the most egregious sound-bites peddled by the more extreme environmental lobbyists would usually be received more compliantly by the press than the words of a perceived government lackey (and as there was a lot of nonsense floating around with which I naturally disagreed, I didn’t end up a favourite of the press or the fishery’s critics).

Unsurprisingly, the fisherman concerned was largely demonised by the media. That was a real shame (although he sometimes seemed to be his own worst enemy) since up until then a great deal of what was known of basking shark biology came from collaborations between the fishermen and scientists. Moreover, at least four ‘popular’ books were written by Scottish basking shark fishermen of the 1940s and 50s – Harpoon at a Venture by Gavin Maxwell was the best known – and all contained interesting, if largely anecdotal, information.

One of those authors, ‘Tex’ Geddes, the so-called Laird of Soay, was Maxwell’s harpoon man and, like Maxwell himself, he was an instructor for the Special Operations Executive during the Second World War. The Independent’s obituary of him described him as “an accomplished knife-thrower and bayonet fencer, a boxer, a former rum-runner in Newfoundland, an orphaned lumberjack “tree monkey” whose father had been blown up while dynamiting a log jam and who had been expelled from school at the age of 12 as “unmanageable“). Nae bad, even for a Peterheid loon!

Anyway, our contemporary skipper was, like Geddes, something of a character albeit a less extreme one. We took part separately in a number of TV programmes, each facing hostile interviews covering the controversial fishery, including Channel Four’s ‘Fragile Earth’ series and the BBC2 ‘Nature’ programme fronted by Michael Buerk (famous for his ‘Ethiopian famine’ reports in the earlier 1980).

I think it was in the former (but I may be wrong) that our modern-day ‘Tex’ was asked about the moral issue of using a harpoon gun to kill such large and charismatic animals, sometimes in full view of families gazing down on the Clyde from the ramparts of Culzean Castle. Bearing in mind that he was being filmed standing on the prow of his boat, almost sideways on, with his harpoon gun fully loaded and pointing with priapic grandeur from below his midriff, his reply made me laugh. Having thought for a second or two, he focused attention on his weapon by sweeping his arm downwards with a flourish and proclaimed:

That’s ma tool!

I rather warmed to him after that 🙂

"That's ma tool!" or "How to make friends and influence people"
“That’s ma tool!” or “How to make friends and influence people”.

Quotes that made me laugh #11

When I first told ‘Management’ that I had joined my work’s Yammer group on Women in Science and Engineering, her pithy comment was: “Does that mean you’ll now do your share of the ironing?” (thus putting the ‘ouch’ into touché!). Unfazed by such comments, I then Yammered to my colleagues about the way that bicycling had contributed to the emancipation of women. Susan B Anthony’s well-known quote from 1896 was my starting point …

Let me tell you what I think of bicycling. I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world. It gives women a feeling of freedom and self-reliance. I stand and rejoice every time I see a woman ride by on a wheel…the picture of free, untrammeled womanhood“.

… and this was followed by reference to a couple of articles on the MentalFloss and Grauniad websites (and there is a host of other web references that could be equally well cited).

Subsequently, and entirely by coincidence, the week after I Yammered about it an episode was screened of the TV series ‘In the Factory’ that was devoted to the manufacture of Brompton foldable bikes. In one of the show’s segments the historian Ruth Goodman presented how the bicycle had supported the emancipation of women. It was not as complete a treatment as the references above, but it did explain why specifically bicycling and not tricycling promoted the cause (apparently it was largely to do with the apparel required to ride the corresponding cycles)

Anyway“, I hear you ask, “where is the quote that made you laugh?“. Well, I was quite tickled by the penultimate paragraph of the MentalFloss article that mentions Jacquie Phelan, a feminist mountain biker who founded WOMBATS, the Women’s Mountain Bike and Tea Society. And it is one of her quotes on the WOMBATS website that made me laugh. It chimes greatly with me and, I suspect, with Firstborn too:

I never grew up, because grown-up has “groan” in it“.

Quotes that made me laugh #10

A cyclist’s re-working of the old “it’s easier to say sorry than to ask permission” gag:

When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bicycle. Then I realised that the Lord doesn’t work that way, so I stole one and asked Him to forgive me“. (Emo Philips).

… and no apologies for raiding my old Facebook postings to re-post this cartoon (one that, having failed to see its underlying message, my sister showed to a class of children. Bless!).

cyclist