While the thinking sins identified by Tetlock are universal – we’re all vulnerable to overconfidence and confirmation bias – it’s not clear that the flaws of political experts can be generalized to other forms of expertise. For one thing, predicting geopolitics is famously fraught: there are countless variables to consider, interacting in unknowable ways. It’s possible, then, that experts might perform better in a narrower setting, attempting to predict the outcomes of experiments in their own field.
A new study, by Stefano DellaVigna at UC Berkeley and Devin Pope at the University of Chicago, aims to put academic experts to this more stringent test. They assembled 208 experts from the fields of economics, behavioral economics and psychology and asked them to forecast the impact of different motivators on the performance of subjects performing an extremely tedious task. (They had to press the “a” and “b” buttons on their keyboard as quickly as possible for ten minutes.) The experimental conditions ranged from the obvious – paying for better performance – to the subtle, as DellaVigna and Pope also looked at the influence of peer comparisons, charity and loss aversion. What makes these questions interesting is that DellaVigna and Pope already knew the answers: they’d run these motivational studies on nearly 10,000 subjects. The mystery was whether or not the experts could predict the actual results.
The good news for experts is that these academics did far better than Tetlock’s pundits. When asked to predict the average points in each condition, they demonstrated the wisdom of crowds: their predictions were off by only 5 percent. If you’re a policy maker, trying to anticipate the impact of a motivational nudge, you’d be well served by asking a bunch of academics for their opinions.
The bad news is that, on an individual level, these academics still weren’t very good. They might have looked prescient when their answers were pooled together, but the results were far less impressive if you looked at the accuracy of experts in isolation. Perhaps most distressing, at least for the egos of experts, is that non-scientists were much better at ranking the treatments against each other, forecasting which conditions would be most and least effective. (As DellaVigna pointed out in an email, this is less a consequence of expert failure and more a tribute to the fact that non-experts did “amazingly well” at the task.) The takeaway is straightforward: there might be predictive value in a diverse group of academics, but you’d be foolish to trust the forecast of a single one.
Furthermore, there was shockingly little relationship between the credentials of academia and overall performance. Full professors tended to underperform assistant professors, while having more Google Scholar citations was correlated with lower levels of accuracy. (PhD students were “at least as good” as their bosses.) Academic experience clearly has virtues. But making better predictions about experiments does not seem to be one of them.
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