THIS ARTICLE APPEARED IN AUG. 9-15, 1997 ISSUE OF "THE ECONOMIST"
SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY
Social research
Asking for trouble
SPARE a brief thought for journalists, forced to extract salacious gossip on
the seamier sides of life from people unwilling to reveal it. Only a brief
thought, mind-but now consider how much worse is the plight of a more socially
useful group, those who have to compile not just anecdotes, but meaningful
statistics on the prevalence of the grimmer social and physical ills, such as
rape or HIV infection.
People are often scared to report these things, so the official sources for
such statistics (e.g., police or hospital reports) are likely to be
underestimates-possibly big ones. Indeed, for some activities, such as heroin
use, no useful numbers exist at all.
The solution, according to Peter Killworth at the University of Southampton,
in England, Russell Bernard at the University of Florida, Gainesville, and
their colleagues, is simple. Instead of asking people, ask their friends.
The researchers reason that although a lot of information never makes it to
the ears of officialdom, gossip gets everywhere. And though people do not like
to reveal embarrassing facts about themselves, even when promised anonymity,
they are quite happy to spill the beans about others-so long as they do not
(unlike in their dealings with journalists) have to name names.
What is needed is a technique to turn this gossip into scientific
information. In a paper recently accepted by Evaluation Review, Dr Killworth
and his colleagues present their latest attempt to do just that.
The theory is straightforward. Find out, for each member of a representative
sample of a population, how many individuals that person knows altogether, and
how many he knows in particular groups of interest (eg, drug users, or women
called Olivia). From the answers, you can calculate how big the group of
interest is as a proportion of the overall population.
The first attempt to do this was led by Dr Bernard, when he tried to improve
on official estimates of the number of deaths in the Mexican earthquake of
1985. As he discovered then, the practice is more complex than the theory. For
one thing, the basic theory assumes that all people have an equal chance of
knowing members of a certain group. Clearly this is false. Someone who is
himself HIV-positive, for example, is likely to know many more people with the
virus than someone who isn't. This kind of effect might average out-some people
have more HIV-positive acquaintances, some fewer-but that is untested.
The theory also assumes that people know everything about their
acquaintances. This, too, is obviously untrue, especially when the subject of
the enquiry is shady or stigmatised. But more knowledge about social behaviour
can help compensate for this. For example, a study led by another member of the
collaboration, Gene Shelley of Georgia State University, suggested that when
people test positive for HIV they cut down their circle of contacts by, on
average, a factor of three.
A more immediate problem, however, is that people are not very good at
working out how many other people they know. So Dr Killworth and his colleagues
had to do it for them. They asked each respondent in their survey not only
about the three groups whose sizes they wanted to estimate (women who had been
raped, people with HIV and homeless people), but also about 29 reliably known
quantities, such as diabetics, jailbirds and men named David. The numbers of
people a respondent knew in those groups could be used to infer how big his
circle of acquaintances was.
This method has other advantages. The researchers could check its
performance by seeing how well it predicted the known group sizes. In future,
they might work out how good an informant each person in a survey is by seeing
how well he estimates the sizes of all the known groups. This would allow them
to give more weight to better informants when totting up the estimates for the
three unknown groups.
Their current results, taken from a survey of 1,554 respondents conducted in
late 1994, were that America then had 800,000 HIV-positive people, that 194,000
women had been raped in the previous 12 months, and that 526,000 people were on
the streets (give or take 5-10% in each case). These fitted within the range of
estimates arrived at by other methods. In 1990, America's Centres for Disease
Control collected estimates of between 300,000 and 1.5m cases of HIV infection
nationally; estimated rape figures in the same year varied from 130,000 to 683,000;
and official estimates for the number of homeless people have varied between
200,000 and 600,000.
So the method appears to work, and may thus be able to point out just where
in the range of previous estimates the truth lies. But there is more to be done.
For instance, the model tends to exaggerate the size of small groups and
diminish that of large ones. The researchers are now hoping to learn more about
how information spreads through social networks (or rather, why it sometimes
does not)-data which they hope will correct this anomaly. Using them they can
then refine their model to compensate for gossip's imperfections.
Copyright 1997 The Economist Newspaper Limited. All Rights Reserved