Books like The Data Detective

Though written by an academic philosopher, the highly readable On Bullshit weighs in at a breezy eighty pages.

What I love about this book is the way the author differentiates the bullshitter, who attempts to persuade without any regard for the truth, from the liar, who cares about the truth but tries to hide it. Frankfurt goes on to make a strong case for why bullshit is far more dangerous than lying.

In an age where bullshitters get more far attention than they deserve, this is even more relevant than when it was first published in the social-media-free year of 1986.

I recommend this book because the author, a professor of philosophy, presents a remarkably compelling, highly readable defense of the value of truth without descending into dogmatism. I was most impressed by the systematic, jargon-free way that Lynch addresses common arguments that are used to undermine the pursuit of truth, including extreme cynicism and extreme relativism.

One of my favorite statements is, “Absolute certainty is impractical and probably impossible. But as I’ve argued, this doesn’t have anything to do with the truth. We can acknowledge the frailty of the human condition and still go on pursuing truth.”

Unlike a lot of philosophy books, reading True to Life is not heavy going. And Lynch may even convince you that the impossible quest of pursuing truth is worth the effort. 

Because this book was first published in 1962, you might be surprised to learn that it has a lot to tell us about communication in the Digital Age.

McLuhan’s thesis is that, just as moving from a world dominated by oral communication to a world dominated by print changed human cognition, the movement to electronic communication–which, in 1962, primarily meant television–was actively rewiring human cognition.

Reading The Guttenberg Galaxy causes me to marvel at how thoroughly McLuhan understood that a technology that was then only in its infancy was going to change the way people think in profound, sometimes unsettling ways.

I was impressed by author Kent Greenfield’s courage in questioning the near-sacred notion that all of our choices are free. Greenfield is not an enemy of choice, freedom, or liberty, but he understands how popular culture has reduced these complex concepts into not much more than advertising slogans.

A law professor at Boston University, the author uses relatable real-life examples, many of them personal, to illustrate how things that we think of as free choices are not as free as we would like to believe. Greenfield is not a pessimist, and I appreciate his suggestions for thinking more carefully about the extent to which our choices are truly and freely our own. 

László’s book is a masterpiece of interweaving exciting storytelling with prudent proposals for a new view on seemingly unexplainable ‘bursts’ of behavior. I like the sudden breaks in the text, which abruptly jump from focus to focus—this keeps me alert and induces me to invent my own overarching interpretation.

A new stage of understanding the manyfold links in our social world has to include sudden breaks in standard behavior—this is the main message that the eminent network researcher Barabasi has in store for me. 

I found a copy of this book in the sixties. That copy, much loved, was lost in moves and mayhem. Now, I only have a Dover reprint (water-logged during yet another move), but I have never been without and would search high and low if I were.

This is also a history of probability but with a very different focus. Ms. David was a statistician able to explain the calculations intuitively (good to assign to my students). But she was also thoroughly interested in the personalities involved. What was Galileo like? What happened to Pascal at Port-Royal?

I felt personally drawn into the historical narrative that often reads like a novel. 

This book applies economic theory and econometric methods to problems in criminology.

It is divided into three parts. Part I discusses models of criminal recidivism. Part II describes the economic model of crime. Part III estimates cost functions for prisons.

Specific chapters cover statistical analysis of qualitative outcomes; analysis of two measures of criminal activity – the arrest rate and the conviction rate; and long-run estimates of cost functions for a group of Federal Correctional Institutions. 

This provides a superb balance between technical aspects of R coding and the statistical methods that motivate its use. It's rare to find a book on topics like this that are written with Kabacoff's easygoing yet precise style, which makes it ideal for beginners. From my own experience, it is obvious the author has spent many years teaching this type of content, knowing where things deserve extra explanation up front and where other more technical details can be relegated to more advanced texts.

I am laughing out loud, even now that I am rereading this book for the umpteenth time. Fraudsters are so clever, and so is advertising. And then there is sloppy journalism with its “wow” statistics.

I like his book enormously, not least because of its witty illustrations. It is subversive, comic, and provocative, and it makes me wise to seductive, misleading practices–and it does so with a light touch.

Jun Otsuka, a philosopher who also has training in statistics, zooms in on their philosophical foundations.

His book discusses the metaphysical, epistemological, and semantic assumptions on which Classical statistics, Bayesian statistics, predictive/classification AI models, and causal inference are based.

For those interested in these disciplines but who're also sensitive to the philosophical issues they raise, Otsuka's book is simply amazing. Run out and get a copy as soon as possible.