It's 4pm on what feels like the longest Tuesday of my life. It is a beautiful day outside, glorious sunshine and not a cloud in the sky. Despite this, my little head feels like it's full of fog, with only random words, concepts and definitions floating out of the mist and crashing into each other. This does not give me a sunny disposition to match the weather.
My task for today was to finish the introduction to one of my chapters, something I didn't expect to take me all day as I only had one more section to go. What I've actually ended up doing since I arrived at my desk is writing and re-writing the same few paragraphs over and over. Each time I think I've wrapped my head around a definition and whether one author is using a different one compared to another it has been back to the drawing board as the definition really is crucial to the point I'm trying to make. My head feels like it has gone through the wringer and the more I try to understand the further away it all seems to get.
(The concept is hypermnesia by the way and I've decided that it means an increase in recall accuracy across multiple interviews where the net gain of new information is more than the loss of information - they can take it or leave it)
Several studies have based their definition on one paper and all, in their own blundering way, have regurgitated that definition for their own use. As far as I could tell they were all on the same page, all talking about the same thing, all making sense. Yes, some of them had found contradictory results but as far as I was concerned that was down to the glaringly obvious differences in their methods, nothing to do with the definitions.
I then came across a more recent paper from a well respected psychologist who boldy claims that X didn't get the same results because their definition and way of measuring hypermnesia is more strict and difficult than everyone elses. Hmmm... I thought, that's odd. I would like to think I would have noticed something like that...
So it began. I have been back over six or seven papers today, reading them in their entirity, reading their definitions only, placing them side by side and reading the definitions one after the other, and I even roped in an office mate to try and help wade through my confusion. After all this I still have no idea whether I'm coming or going, who thinks what and whether it actually makes a difference at all so why have I spent ALL DAY trying to figure it out...argh!
What I think it all boils down to is some pretty shoddy writing on a few authors behalf. One paper, for example, contradicts its own definition within the same paragraph. The original catalyst for this day of dispair, claims that X is using a stricter measure but then, from what I can tell, goes on to use the same measure themselves. The same measure, in fact, that everybody else chuffing used - so why kick up the fuss in the first place? I've gone around in so many circles that I've almost lost the point I was trying to make in the first place. I've now convinced myself it must have been a stroke of pure genius otherwise I wouldn't have spent so long trying to figure this all out. It better have been, but now I'm not so sure.
We had a training session a few weeks ago on the clarity of writing and how important it was and this has been a painful experience that reinforces just how true that is. If someone with a background in your area can't fathom what on earth your point is then why bother? The purpose of research is to gain an understanding about how things work and to try and add to the general knowledge of the world. If people can't work out what you've done, what you found or what you mean then you might as well pack up, go home and give your funding to someone who can clearly express themselves.
Clarity is what we would all like, what would make our lives easier. Please leave your ambiguity at the door and make some chuffing sense.
Is that too much to ask?
Tuesday, 27 March 2012
Monday, 12 March 2012
The Mail Room, Tea Breaks and Memory Failures
Multi-tasking is key in the quest to become Dr Ainsworth and I would argue that I am, on the whole, quite skilled at juggling multiple tasks at once. I do so on a regular day-to-day basis with little conscious effort or advanced planning. I just do. We all do.
Unfortuntately (and really, REALLY frustrating for me), it would seem that there are two specific tasks that I simply cannot combine successfullly, even though I specifically set out with the intention of doing them both at the same time: picking up printing from the mail room and making myself a cup of tea. Why this is this case, I have absolutely no idea.
Let me explain (if you care enough to keep reading, I won't be offended if you don't! This is a rather mundane rant after all!):
Me and my fellow officemates are based on the top floor of our building. Most of the printers are based on the floor below us. To get there requires a hop, skip and a jump along the corridor, with the opening of many doors along the way, down the stairs, through more doors and into the mail room to collect our printing. Conveniently, or so it should be, next door to the mail room is the meeting room, home to the tea-making facilities.
After being sat at a desk for a few hours, as I'm sure many people will sympathise with, it's nice to have a walk to stretch your legs and it's definitely nice to have a cup of tea! Although I may wish to stretch my legs I don't want to walk up and down the stairs all day long so I often try to kill two birds with one stone. I will send things to the printer when I know I'm going to want a cup of tea so I can walk down, put the kettle on, collect the printing, make the tea and return to my office triumphant and looking semi-productive to passers-by as I stroll past with my pile of articles or chapter drafts.
99.9% of the time this plan fails. I return with tea but no printing or printing but no tea. It's not until I've walked back upstairs and got back to my desk when I realise my mistake, curse, and have to go all the way back down again. Granted, it's not far, but it's the principle of the matter which irritates me the most. I wouldn't be half as annoyed if it didn't happen almost EVERY single time! ARGH!!!
It doesn't matter which order I try and do things in either. If I put the kettle on and then go straight to the mail room while the kettle boils then I forget to go and make the tea. If I wait for the kettle to boil I head straight back upstairs once the tea is made. There's no winning. EVER.
I could always look on the bright side and think of it as a few extra calories burned but if I'd wanted to do that I wouldn't have tried to do the two things at the same time now would I?
Answers on a postcard as to how on earth I fix my main multi-tasking failure gratefully received!
Ciao for now.
Unfortuntately (and really, REALLY frustrating for me), it would seem that there are two specific tasks that I simply cannot combine successfullly, even though I specifically set out with the intention of doing them both at the same time: picking up printing from the mail room and making myself a cup of tea. Why this is this case, I have absolutely no idea.
Let me explain (if you care enough to keep reading, I won't be offended if you don't! This is a rather mundane rant after all!):
Me and my fellow officemates are based on the top floor of our building. Most of the printers are based on the floor below us. To get there requires a hop, skip and a jump along the corridor, with the opening of many doors along the way, down the stairs, through more doors and into the mail room to collect our printing. Conveniently, or so it should be, next door to the mail room is the meeting room, home to the tea-making facilities.
After being sat at a desk for a few hours, as I'm sure many people will sympathise with, it's nice to have a walk to stretch your legs and it's definitely nice to have a cup of tea! Although I may wish to stretch my legs I don't want to walk up and down the stairs all day long so I often try to kill two birds with one stone. I will send things to the printer when I know I'm going to want a cup of tea so I can walk down, put the kettle on, collect the printing, make the tea and return to my office triumphant and looking semi-productive to passers-by as I stroll past with my pile of articles or chapter drafts.
99.9% of the time this plan fails. I return with tea but no printing or printing but no tea. It's not until I've walked back upstairs and got back to my desk when I realise my mistake, curse, and have to go all the way back down again. Granted, it's not far, but it's the principle of the matter which irritates me the most. I wouldn't be half as annoyed if it didn't happen almost EVERY single time! ARGH!!!
It doesn't matter which order I try and do things in either. If I put the kettle on and then go straight to the mail room while the kettle boils then I forget to go and make the tea. If I wait for the kettle to boil I head straight back upstairs once the tea is made. There's no winning. EVER.
I could always look on the bright side and think of it as a few extra calories burned but if I'd wanted to do that I wouldn't have tried to do the two things at the same time now would I?
Answers on a postcard as to how on earth I fix my main multi-tasking failure gratefully received!
Ciao for now.
Thursday, 8 March 2012
Participant Pains
The problem of conducting research in the human sciences is the unavoidable reliance on humans. Participants are crucial in psychology research and without them, all you have are a bunch of unsupported hypotheses and no data. But there are many, many joys and sorrows that are attached to testing human participants...well, actually...there are mainly just sorrows.
1. You actually have to recruit your participants.
If you're in a University department there is usually an official requirement for the poor First Year Psychology students to take part in studies in exchange for credits, without which they cannot pass into their second year. This sounds like a devious plan and a sure-fire way of getting them through the door, and on the whole it can work. However, there's not really a punishment for not getting their credits, they just have to submit an extra essay and 'ta-da', entrance into second year is theirs. Without an actual serious consequence, unless they consider essay writing the end of the world, then there isn't much incentive for them to willingly take part. Beyond jazzing up the description of your study to make it sound like the most interesting thing in the world, there's little more you can to get them to sign up.
Alternatively, a lucky few researchers will have a budget out of which they can pay participants for taking part. This quickly attracts interest. Psych studies are often seen as an easy way to make some quick cash, and they are paid reasonably well. But budgets are not bottomless pits and eventually the funds run out and you're back to relying on the goodwill of fellow man and there's not much of that going around.
2. Then you have totest them.
You've done the hard bit and recruited yourself some (almost) willing participants. The study is set up and ready to go. You think the data is in the bag but you've overlooked one little problem...
People can be a real pain, intentionally or otherwise. As you are likely to be testing psychology students who have, by now, slept through a lecture or two, they all think they are experts. They spend your entire study trying to work out what it is you're looking at and will either try their best to give the answers they think you want, or will maliciously mess everything up.Many of them can't follow simple instructions or just don't care enough to listen in the first place.
Occassionally, a participant may actually show interest in your study and have a good discussion with you afterwards, you might even get a good idea from them. On the other hand, some participants think they know absolutely everything and relish the opportunity to tell you exactly what they think you've done wrong, when in fact they've got no idea what they are talking about. These participants are difficult to get out the door and lead to much eye-rolling when they're not looking.
3. Ha! You're assuming that they will actually turn up!! FOOL!
It's all fine and well recruiting participants, but you never know whether they'll actually turn up in the first place. This is my major grumble at the moment, and has been for quite some time.
People who have voluntarily signed up to take part in your study and then fail to actually show up to take part i.e. no shows. No shows are the bain of my life right now. I've been testing for my current study since September and I've had at least 10-15 no show participants in that time. There's nothing worse than dragging yourself out of bed and into the lab for a 9am participant to find that they just couldn't be bothered getting up that day and didn't think it was necessary to let you know that they weren't coming. Seeing the pouring rain and knowing, deep down, that nobody is going to turn up that day but having to go in anyway, just in case.
It's just plain rude.They signed up to it in the first place - I didn't force them to agree to a 9am slot, they chose it. So not only am I constantly left waiting around for participants to show up when I have better things to be doing, but someone else could have signed up to the slot that would have actually turned up.
ARGH!!!
Participants - you can't do research without them, but you also can't do research if they don't turn up.
I long for the day when data collection is over. But, I'm sure once the analysis starts, it won't be long before I'm craving a no show to complain about.
Isn't research fun?! :D
1. You actually have to recruit your participants.
If you're in a University department there is usually an official requirement for the poor First Year Psychology students to take part in studies in exchange for credits, without which they cannot pass into their second year. This sounds like a devious plan and a sure-fire way of getting them through the door, and on the whole it can work. However, there's not really a punishment for not getting their credits, they just have to submit an extra essay and 'ta-da', entrance into second year is theirs. Without an actual serious consequence, unless they consider essay writing the end of the world, then there isn't much incentive for them to willingly take part. Beyond jazzing up the description of your study to make it sound like the most interesting thing in the world, there's little more you can to get them to sign up.
Alternatively, a lucky few researchers will have a budget out of which they can pay participants for taking part. This quickly attracts interest. Psych studies are often seen as an easy way to make some quick cash, and they are paid reasonably well. But budgets are not bottomless pits and eventually the funds run out and you're back to relying on the goodwill of fellow man and there's not much of that going around.
2. Then you have totest them.
You've done the hard bit and recruited yourself some (almost) willing participants. The study is set up and ready to go. You think the data is in the bag but you've overlooked one little problem...
People can be a real pain, intentionally or otherwise. As you are likely to be testing psychology students who have, by now, slept through a lecture or two, they all think they are experts. They spend your entire study trying to work out what it is you're looking at and will either try their best to give the answers they think you want, or will maliciously mess everything up.Many of them can't follow simple instructions or just don't care enough to listen in the first place.
Occassionally, a participant may actually show interest in your study and have a good discussion with you afterwards, you might even get a good idea from them. On the other hand, some participants think they know absolutely everything and relish the opportunity to tell you exactly what they think you've done wrong, when in fact they've got no idea what they are talking about. These participants are difficult to get out the door and lead to much eye-rolling when they're not looking.
3. Ha! You're assuming that they will actually turn up!! FOOL!
It's all fine and well recruiting participants, but you never know whether they'll actually turn up in the first place. This is my major grumble at the moment, and has been for quite some time.
People who have voluntarily signed up to take part in your study and then fail to actually show up to take part i.e. no shows. No shows are the bain of my life right now. I've been testing for my current study since September and I've had at least 10-15 no show participants in that time. There's nothing worse than dragging yourself out of bed and into the lab for a 9am participant to find that they just couldn't be bothered getting up that day and didn't think it was necessary to let you know that they weren't coming. Seeing the pouring rain and knowing, deep down, that nobody is going to turn up that day but having to go in anyway, just in case.
It's just plain rude.They signed up to it in the first place - I didn't force them to agree to a 9am slot, they chose it. So not only am I constantly left waiting around for participants to show up when I have better things to be doing, but someone else could have signed up to the slot that would have actually turned up.
ARGH!!!
Participants - you can't do research without them, but you also can't do research if they don't turn up.
I long for the day when data collection is over. But, I'm sure once the analysis starts, it won't be long before I'm craving a no show to complain about.
Isn't research fun?! :D
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)