## Further evaluation of Binomial confidence intervals

### Abstract Paper (PDF)

Wallis (2013) provides an account of an empirical evaluation of Binomial confidence intervals and contingency test formulae. The main take-home message of that article was that it is possible to evaluate statistical methods objectively and provide advice to researchers that is based on an objective computational assessment.

In this article we develop the evaluation of that article further by re-weighting estimates of error using Binomial and Fisher weighting, which is equivalent to an ‘exhaustive Monte-Carlo simulation’. We also develop an argument concerning key attributes of difference intervals: that we are not merely concerned with when differences are zero (conventionally equivalent to a significance test) but also accurate estimation when difference may be non-zero (necessary for plotting data and comparing differences).

### 1. Introduction

All statistical procedures may be evaluated in terms of the rate of two distinct types of error.

• Type I errors (false positives): this is evidence of so-called ‘radical’ or ‘anti-conservative’ behaviour, i.e. rejecting null hypotheses which should not have been rejected, and
• Type II errors (false negatives): this is evidence of ‘conservative’ behaviour, i.e. retaining or failing to reject null hypotheses unnecessarily.

It is customary to treat these errors separately because the consequences of rejecting and retaining a null hypothesis are qualitatively distinct. Continue reading “Further evaluation of Binomial confidence intervals”

## The other end of the telescope

### Introduction

The standard approach to teaching (and thus thinking about) statistics is based on projecting distributions of ranges of expected values. The distribution of an expected value is a set of probabilities that predict what the value will be, according to a mathematical model of what you predict should happen.

For the experimentalist, this distribution is the imaginary distribution of very many repetitions of the same experiment that you may have just undertaken. It is the output of a mathematical model.

• Note that this idea of a projected distribution is not the same as the term ‘expected distribution’. An expected distribution is a series of values you predict your data should match.
• Thus in what follows we simply compare a single expected value P with an observed value p. This can be thought of as comparing the expected distribution E = {P, 1 – P} with the observed distribution O = {p, 1 – p}.

Thinking about this projected distribution represents a colossal feat of imagination: it is a projection of what you think would happen if only you had world enough and time to repeat your experiment, again and again. But often you can’t get more data. Perhaps the effort to collect your data was huge, or the data is from a finite set of available data (historical documents, patients with a rare condition, etc.). Actual replication may be impossible for material reasons.

In general, distributions of this kind are extremely hard to imagine, because they are not part of our directly-observed experience. See Why is statistics difficult? for more on this. So we already have an uphill task in getting to grips with this kind of reasoning.

Significant difference (often shortened to ‘significance’) refers to the difference between your observations (the ‘observed distribution’) and what you expect to see (the expected distribution). But to evaluate whether a numerical difference is significant, we have to take into account both the shape and spread of this projected distribution of expected values.

When you select a statistical test you do two things:

• you choose a mathematical model which projects a distribution of possible values, and
• you choose a way of calculating significant difference.

The problem is that in many cases it is very difficult to imagine this projected distribution, or — which amounts to the same thing — the implications of the statistical model.

When tests are selected, the main criterion you have to consider concerns the type of data being analysed (an ‘ordinal scale’, a ‘categorical scale’, a ‘ratio scale’, and so on). But the scale of measurement is only one of several parameters that allows us to predict how random selection might affect the resampling of data.

A mathematical model contains what are usually called assumptions, although it might be more accurate to call them ‘preconditions’ or parameters. If these assumptions about your data are incorrect, the test is likely to give an inaccurate result. This principle is not either/or, but can be thought of as a scale of ‘degradation’. The less the data conforms to these assumptions, the more likely your test is to give the wrong answer.

This is particularly problematic in some computational applications. The programmer could not imagine the projected distribution, so they tweaked various parameters until the program ‘worked’. In a ‘black-box’ algorithm this might not matter. If it appears to work, who cares if the algorithm is not very principled? Performance might be less than optimal, but it may still produce valuable and interesting results.

But in science there really should be no such excuse.

The question I have been asking myself for the last ten years or so is simply can we do better? Is there a better way to teach (and think about) statistics than from the perspective of distributions projected by counter-intuitive mathematical models (taken on trust) and significance tests? Continue reading “The other end of the telescope”

## Detecting direction in interaction evidence

### IntroductionPaper (PDF)

I have previously argued (Wallis 2014) that interaction evidence is the most fruitful type of corpus linguistics evidence for grammatical research (and doubtless for many other areas of linguistics).

Frequency evidence, which we can write as p(x), the probability of x occurring, concerns itself simply with the overall distribution of a linguistic phenomenon x – such as whether informal written English has a higher proportion of interrogative clauses than formal written English. In order to calculate frequency evidence we must define x, i.e. decide how to identify interrogative clauses. We must also pick an appropriate baseline n for this evaluation, i.e. we need to decide whether to use words, clauses, or any other structure to identify locations where an interrogative clause may occur.

Interaction evidence is different. It is a statistical correlation between a decision that a writer or speaker makes at one part of a text, which we will label point A, and a decision at another part, point B. The idea is shown schematically in Figure 1. A and B are separate ‘decision points’ in a given relationship (e.g. lexical adjacency), which can be also considered as ‘variables’.

This class of evidence is used in a wide range of computational algorithms. These include collocation methods, part-of-speech taggers, and probabilistic parsers. Despite the promise of interaction evidence, the majority of corpus studies tend to consist of discussions of frequency differences and distributions.

In this paper I want to look at applications of interaction evidence which are made more-or-less at the same time by the same speaker/writer. In such circumstances we cannot be sure that just because B follows A in the text, the decision relating to B was made after the decision at A. Continue reading “Detecting direction in interaction evidence”