The Numbers Game

Does this make you feel better?

If you follow education, you've probably read about how the state of New York is attempting to evaluate a large chunk of teachers by giving tests and getting scores and measuring "value added" and so forth. Of course, I only know this because I read about it in a newspaper, but it seems clear, even to the people administering, that this assessment has real validity issues. And while, I'm not writing to speak out against that specific evaluation, it's worth nothing that I think it's--what's the scientific word for it?--oh yeah, crap. I did find it funny, though, that the ultimate conclusion of this assessment, which took a number of years and probably cost a lot of money, was that there are in fact good and bad teachers ... maybe ... and that they're everywhere. Worth it.

Malcolm Gladwell wrote this really interesting essay called "Most Likely to Succeed" that talks about a phenomenon he calls "the quarterback problem." I won't insult your intelligence and summarize at great length because I assume you can read. If not, then none of this makes any sense anyway. The idea of the quarterback problem is essentially that there are many things in this world that cannot be evaluated in a predictive sense to an even adequate degree of accuracy. Gladwell uses quarterbacks, which is actually a pretty poor example because if you look at the history of the NFL, most of the leagues greatest quarterbacks were taken in the first round. But he also uses teaching, which seems dead on, and the points he makes are solid.

I'm willing to take it a step further though, or perhaps a step more general or theoretical, as long as it's theoretical in the sense that really drunk people get theoretical when lying on a porch at 3am. I think Gladwell is right; there are some instances where attempting to evaluate as a means of predicting success are so inaccurate they're virtually pointless. I also think this concept stems from this ingrained cultural impulse to quantify as a means of understanding, making meaning, and drawing conclusions to alleviate fear, and when I see that taking place in an inappropriate situation, I laugh at the stupidity of it.

We fear uncertainty; I understand that. For millions of years, the things we couldn't understand probably killed and ate us (humans) or gave us some horrible disease. By presenting quantitative data, we alleviate that fear of uncertainty. If I want to solve a perceived problem of why students don't seem to be meeting expectations* (which for some unknown, ridiculous reason always has something to do with China), I can alleviate the fears that stem from that by giving a teacher a number--she's an 8; he's a 6--firing or reprimanding the "bad" teachers, and expecting change.

That feels good. We like that feeling--when we know everything is going to be alright because the numbers tell us so. It's like hiding under the covers from the monster in your closet because the blanket is some kind of impenetrable shield for monsters, as we all know. Nothing makes us believe we know what's going on like a big group of numbers and categories. The person who invented Microsoft Excel was really on to something.

With all these feel-good numbers on our side, keeping the monsters at bay, we often end up stunned when the same issues that the numbers and categories were suppose to solve don't get solved. Huh? But we worked so hard on that spreadsheet. It's surprising I know. Who would have thought that a complex connection between people couldn't be reduced to ones and zeros, groups and sections? It's as if the Ninja Turtles blanket won't stop the viscous monster at all, but rather provide a rather comical tortilla for the monster to wrap me into a burrito and eat me.

And perhaps the saddest part of this issue, is that we keep going back to the comfort of quantitative certainty. It just feels so good, I guess. If the numbers didn't work the first 200 times, we convince ourselves that the issue was the numbers themselves or the way we collected them or analyzed them. We have real trouble letting ourselves believe that the answer doesn't lie in pushing people into groups or numbered slots. I have some thoughts as to why we move immediately to numbers, categories, and so on (mostly stolen from other people so someone already has some kind of an answer). Regardless of why, it's clear that there are many, many situations in which this tactic does not work, hasn't worked, and will never work.

The idea just struck me that attempting to categorize, quantify, and section off certain things in society is in fact reductive. When humans are the subject, context is everything (hyperbole). Every time we set up a group or call a teacher a 6, we have just lost a wrinkle of complexity involved with truly understanding that situation. To place a number on it, is to see a blade of grass and call it a meadow. What if it's a park? What if it's a football field? What if some lunatic is growing a single blade of grass in a milk carton that he named Mandi?

The ramifications of this mindset are really the root of so many issues that, at their core, seek to force people into a simplified, palatable understanding of the world revolving around a devotion to our sick compulsion to quantify. I think of racism, sexism, elitism, class and sexuality based bigotry, but also smaller day-to-day issues like the results of that evaluation in New York. Or even smaller but potentially more significant, the way we view the relationships we have with each other on a personal level. I recently overheard a woman who insisted that if her boyfriend was going to ask her to marry him on Valentines Day, that he couldn't count the ring as a Valentines Day present but would need to get another as well. Ouch. This woman has quantified the love of her boyfriend, and I wish I could say she was joking. But two presents, one ring, one something else, will give her the certainty she needs. What happens on their 50th wedding anniversary (assuming they make it there)? What's it going to take at that point? I feel bad for that guy.

Of course, sometimes quantifying can gain us increased understanding. We wouldn't have made some of the tremendous leaps in science, technology, philosophy, history, anthropology, etc. if we hadn't used quantifiable data to understand things. All I'd suggest, is that we work to recognize when the numbers and the categories don't have all the answers and when they might be harming our cause (the progression of humanity for a general example) rather than helping it. I realize this idea is not revolutionary, but it's something I think people need to think more about. Or put into practice more often.

*A post for another time will be why a lot of our perceived "problems" are bullshit as well, or at least not understood as they should be.