While I discuss my employer’s work in this post, all opinions are my own.
My employer, Open Philanthropy, strives to make grants in light of evidence. Of course, many uncertainties in our decision-making are irreducible. No amount of thumbing through peer-reviewed journals will tell us how great a threat AI will pose decades hence, or whether a group we fund will get a vaccine to market or a bill to the governor’s desk. But we have checked journals for insight into many topics, such as the odds of a grid-destabilizing geomagnetic storm, and how much building new schools boosts what kids earn when they grow up.
When we draw on research, we vet it in rare depth (as does GiveWell, from which we spun off). I have sometimes spent months replicating and reanalyzing a key study—checking for bugs in the computer code, thinking about how I would run the numbers differently and how I would interpret the results. This interface between research and practice might seem like a picture of harmony, since researchers want their work to guide decision-making for the public good and decision-makers like Open Philanthropy want to receive such guidance.
Yet I have come to see how cultural misunderstandings prevail at this interface. From my side, what the academy does and what I and most of the public think it does are not the same. There are two problems. First, about half the time I reanalyze a study, I find that there are important bugs in the code, or that adding more data makes the mathematical finding go away, or that there’s a compelling alternative explanation for the results. (Caveat: most of my experience is with non-randomized studies.) Second, when I send my critical findings to the journal that peer-reviewed and published the original research, the editors usually don’t seem interested (recent exception). Seeing the ivory tower as a bastion of truth-seeking, I used to be surprised. I understand now that, because of how the academy works, in particular, because of how the individuals within academia respond to incentives beyond their control, we consumers of research are sometimes more truth-seeking than the producers.
Last fall I saw a tiny illustration of the second problem, and it inspired me to try something new. Dartmouth economist Paul Novosad tweeted his pique with economics journals over how they handle challenges to published papers:
