Personality and Gender

The so-called “Big Five” personality traits are often misunderstood. They all have catchy names, expressed by the acronym CANOE (or OCEAN), but in fact all they are is a summary of answers to certain kinds of personality questions:

  • Conscientiousness: I pay attention to details; I follow a schedule; …
  • Agreeableness: I am interested in people; I feel the emotions of others; …
  • Neuroticism: I get upset easily; I worry about things; …
  • Openness to experience: I am full of ideas; I am interested in abstractions; …
  • Extraversion: I am the life of the party; I start conversations; … (this last one is also measured by the MBTI test)

These tests work in multiple cultures. In this article, I am using data from the Dutch version of the test, the “Vijf PersoonlijkheidsFactoren Test” developed by Elshout and Akkerman. Specifically, I am using data from 8,954 psychology freshmen at the University of Amsterdam during 1982–2007 (Smits, I.A.M., Dolan, C.V., Vorst, H.C., Wicherts, J.M. and Timmerman, M.E., 2013. Data from ‘Cohort Differences in Big Five Personality Factors Over a Period of 25 Years’. Journal of Open Psychology Data, 1(1), p.e2). In my analysis, I have compensated for missing data and for the fact that the sample was 69% female.

The Dutch test consists of 70 items, in 5 groups of 14. The following tree diagram (click to zoom) is the result of UPGMA hierarchical clustering on pairwise correlations between all 70 items. It can be seen that they naturally cluster into 5 groups corresponding almost perfectly to the “Big Five” personality traits – the exception being item A11, which fits extraversion slightly better (r = 0.420) than its own cluster of agreeableness (r = 0.406). This lends support to the idea that the test is measuring five independent things, and that these five things are real.

On tests like this, women consistently score, on average, a little higher than men in conscientiousness, agreeableness, neuroticism, and extraversion (and in this dataset, on average, a little lower in openness to experience). Mean values for conscientiousness in this dataset (on a scale of 14 to 98) were 60.3 for women and 56.1 for men (a difference of 4.2). For agreeableness, they were 70.6 for women and 67.6 for men (a difference of 3.0). There are also small age effects for conscientiousness, agreeableness, and openness to experience (over the 18–25 age range), which I have ignored.

The chart below (click to zoom) shows distributions of conscientiousness and agreeableness among men and women, and the relative frequency of different score ranges (compensating for the fact that the sample was 69% female). Thus, based on this data, a random sample of people with both scores in the range 81 to 90 would be 74% female. With both scores in the range 41 to 50, the sample would be 72% male. This reflects a simple mathematical truth – small differences in group means can produce substantial differences at the tails of the distribution.


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The modern Trivium and the teaching of science

The “trivium” approach to education derives from “The Lost Tools of Learning,” a 1947 speech by scholar and detective story author Dorothy L. Sayers. This approach takes the seven liberal arts (illustrated above), drops the all-important quadrivium, and applies the remainder in a largely metaphorical way. It is an interesting approach, although it inevitably under-emphasises mathematics. The door to Plato’s Academy was marked “Let no one ignorant of geometry enter (Ἀγεωμέτρητος μηδεὶς εἰσίτω),” and this referred to the most advanced mathematic of his day. I’m not sure that the “trivium” approach to education delivers that level of mathematical knowledge. Then again, does the standard approach?

ΑΓΕΩΜΕΤΡΗΤΟΣ ΜΗΔΕΙΣ ΕΙΣΙΤΩ

Science, on the other hand, can be fitted quite well into the “trivium” model. The three stages of this model (largely metaphorical, as noted) are “grammar,” “logic,” and “rhetoric.”

The “grammar” stage (intended for ages 6 to 10 or so) covers basic facts. Science at this level logically includes what used to be called natural history – the close observation of the natural world. Maintaining a nature journal is an important part of this, as are simple experiments, the use of a telescope, collections of objects (rocks, shells, etc.), and simple measurements (such as recording measurements from a home weather station).



Mother and child nature journaling examples from Nature Study Australia Instagram and website

Dorothy L. Sayers has nothing to say about science in the “logic” stage (apart from fitting algebra and geometry here), but the “logic” stage would reasonably include taxonomies, empirical laws, and an exploration of how and why things work the way they do – that is, the internal logic connecting scientific observations and measurements. A degree of integration with history education would provide some context regarding where these taxonomies and laws came from, and why they were seen as important when they were formulated.


Exploring Boyle’s law with a simple apparatus

In the “rhetoric” stage, the “how” and “why” of science would be explored in more detail, along with practical applications and project work (such as entering a science competition, or possibly even collaborating with local academics on a scientific conference paper).


A US Army engineer helps judge high school science projects (photo: Michael J. Nevins / US Army)

I suspect that quite a decent science education programme could be worked out on such a basis. If any reader knows of it having been done, please add a comment.


Looking back: 1994

In 1994, I finished up a three-year lecturing contract at the National University of Singapore, and returned to Australia. That year saw the launch of the Netscape Navigator web browser (I wrote my first web page) and the opening of the Channel Tunnel between France and the UK (I was to take a train through that tunnel some years later). A plethora of movies was released – Stargate was one of the better ones:

In science, the Wollemi pine was discovered in Australia, stirring up a media frenzy. Martin Chalfie transferred the jellyfish gene for green fluorescent protein to the nematode Caenorhabditis elegans, eventually sharing in the 2008 Nobel Prize in Chemistry for this work. And Comet Shoemaker–Levy 9 crashed into Jupiter, leaving visible marks in the Jovian atmosphere:

In France, the Chauvet Cave was discovered. It contains cave art dated to around 30,000 years ago. And superb art it is – those ancient cavemen knew a thing or two:


Superman is boring

Superman, as orginally described, was invulnerable. Having a hero with superpowers that are too strong makes for a boring story, because a good story needs conflict. There are several ways of handling that, of course.

1. Kryptonite weakens my powers

According to some accounts, kryptonite was invented specifically to make Superman less invulnerable and boring (Paul Fairchild explains why this was a bad decision). Kryptonite, of one kind or another, is a classic solution to the problem of an overly strong superhero which, to some extent, has been used by multiple authors. It can be overused, however. If your superhero is always weak, why have such a character at all? A better variation of this approach is for the protagonist to carry his or her own metaphorical kryptonite inside, as some kind of “fatal flaw.”

2. My powers come at a heavy cost

This is one of the easiest ways for an author to ensure that his or her character does not overuse their superpowers. These superpowers may cause pain, coma, physical harm, or other damage that enforces a break between uses of the superpowers. For example, the psychic Greg Mandel in Peter F. Hamilton’s Mindstar Rising and its two sequels suffers severe headaches when his powers are used to excess. Variations of this approach are used in a number of fantasy novels.

3. My powers disturb or frighten me

A good example of this option is Doctor Who, in the eponymous TV series, who often needs to be talked into taking action. The advantage of this approach is that it produces a great deal of interesting dialogue on why the superpowers are disturbing or frightening.

4. I am still learning to use my powers

This option is particularly common in young adult fiction. It allows the author to have an attempted use of powers either succeed or fail at any point; but this makes sense with a young protagonist. The young magician Pug in Raymond E. Feist’s Riftwar Saga is a good example. So is Luke Skywalker in the original Star Wars movie trilogy. To some extent, Aragorn in The Lord of the Rings can be viewed as having a combination of (3) and (4). But, however the author does it, I think that some limitation on superpowers is essential for a story to remain interesting. What do you think?


Bridges, gender, and Benjamin Lee Whorf

I’ve long been fascinated by the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis – the idea that the structure of language determines (or at least influences) the way that you think. I first read Whorf’s book several decades ago.

A friend recently pointed me at this TED talk by Lera Boroditsky. After years of being sneered at, it seems that Whorf is back in fashion.

And there’s certainly something to Whorf’s ideas. For example, there is solid evidence that the way that you name colours influences the way that you see them (slightly, anyway). There is some exaggeration in the TED talk, though. Australian aboriginal speakers of Kuuk Thaayorre have a unique way of describing directions (in absolute, rather than relative terms, e.g. “there is an ant on your northern leg”). They also navigate well across their tribal lands. But is there a causal relationship? Do aboriginal people with this linguistic feature navigate better than those without it? No, they don’t.

Even stranger is the idea that Spanish speakers, for whom a bridge is masculine (el puente), are less likely to describe a bridge as “beautiful,” and more likely to describe it as “strong,” than German speakers, for whom a bridge is feminine (die Brücke). There really are way too many confounding factors there – people who speak different languages differ in other ways too. So I thought I’d try a quick-and-dirty experiment of my own.

For a set of 17 languages, I counted Google hits for the phrases “beautiful bridge” (e.g. French: beau pont, German: schöne Brücke) and “strong bridge” (e.g. Greek: ισχυρή γέφυρα, Dutch: sterke brug), divided one set of numbers by the other, and took the logarithms of those ratios. The chart below summarises the results. Languages in pink have a feminine bridge, languages in blue have a masculine bridge, and languages in grey have a bridge which is neither (for example, English has no gender, while Dutch and Swedish have merged masculine and feminine into a “common” gender).

The mean values there are 0.95, 1.14, and 1.60, where positive numbers mean more hits with “beautiful bridge” (i.e. the trend runs the opposite way from the prediction), but none of the differences are statistically significant (p > 0.4). Gender does not seem to influence perceptions of bridges.

Interestingly, if we exclude the international languages English and Spanish, there is actually a statistically significant (but weak) correlation with GDP of the relevant nation (p = 0.029, r = 0.58). On the whole, poorer countries are more likely to describe a bridge as “strong,” and wealthier countries as “beautiful.” That makes sense, if you think about it (although Iceland is an exception to this pattern).

How about you? Is the bridge beautiful, or strong?


Nature journals

Having said something about phenology wheels, I thought that I should mention nature journals too. Some years ago, I blogged about the professional aspects of this, but nature journals are a powerful educational tool, because of the way that they focus observational attention. John Muir Laws has good advice on getting started, including “Do not focus on trying to make pretty pictures. That just leads to journal block. Open your journal with the intention of discovering something new. Use the process to help you slow down and look more carefully.



Mother and child nature journaling examples from Nature Study Australia Instagram and website

The very useful Nature Study Australia website also has good advice and several examples, as well as other nature study resources for Australians. Artist Paula Peeters, aiming more at adults, runs nature journaling workshops around Australia, and offers an introductory book for sale or free download.


Nature journaling example from Paula Peeters, who runs workshops around Australia

Nature journals need not only contain pictures and text: a spiral-bound sketchbook will easily accomodate flat objects such as leaves, pressed flowers, feathers, and sun prints. Drawings are an essential aspect, however.


The CNPS curriculum

The California Native Plant Society offers a superb nature journaling curriculum for free download. It includes the observational prompts “I notice… I wonder… It reminds me of…” It advises parents and teachers not to say things like “that is really pretty” or “what a good drawing,” but instead to say things like “Oh, you found a spider on top of the flower! Great observation.” It also provides excellent practical advice on drawing, poetry, and other activities.

With so many excellent guides to nature journalling, why not get started on your own?


A drawing of mine (from quite some time ago)


Religious knowledge in the United States


Part of the US religious landscape. Clockwise from top left: Evangelical Protestant, Mainline Protestant, Jewish, Catholic, Other Christian, Other

Readers of this blog know that I really love social statistics, and among the masters of that field are the people at Pew Forum. Back in 2010, they ran an interesting survey of religious knowledge. A simple 15-question version of the survey can be found online [if you want to try it, do so now, since this post has spoilers]. A total of 3,412 adults were interviewed (in English and Spanish). The focus of the survey was on the religious knowledge of different religious groups in the United States:

I was a little frustrated with the survey, since it mixed religion, history, and politics, with questions at quite different levels – ranging from “Where was Jesus born?” (multiple choice: Bethlehem, Jericho, Jerusalem, or Nazareth) to “What religion was Maimonides?” There was, however, an interesting subset of five easy questions about the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament), which Christians and Jews have in common, and I decided to do my own analysis of these questions:

  1. What is the first book of the Bible? (Genesis/Bereishit)
  2. Which of the following is NOT one of the Ten Commandments? (Do unto others as you would have them do unto you)
  3. Which Bible figure is most closely associated with remaining obedient to God despite suffering? (Job)
  4. Which Bible figure is most closely associated with leading the exodus from Egypt? (Moses)
  5. Which Bible figure is most closely associated with willingness to sacrifice his son for God? (Abraham)

Since these questions are closely related and of similar difficulty, it makes sense to add them together. Notice also that Pew’s interviewers were instructed to accept both English and Hebrew answers to (a). The last four questions were multiple-choice, with “Do not commit adultery,” “Do not steal,” and “Keep the Sabbath holy” the other options for (b), and with Job, Elijah, Moses, and Abraham the options for (c) to (e). I would expect a bright child in Sunday School to get 5 out of 5 on these questions, and just guessing should average around 1 out of 5.


Which Bible figure is most closely associated with leading the exodus from Egypt?

Answers to these questions in fact depended quite substantially on education level, and this complicates analysis, because average education level in the US itself varies between religious groups. I coded education numerically as follows:

  • Level 0: No High School (grades 1 to 8)
  • Level 1: Partial High School (grades 9 to 11)
  • Level 2: High School graduate
  • Level 3: High School Plus: technical, trade, vocational, or college education after High School, but less than a 4-year college degree
  • Level 4: College (university) graduate with 4-year degree
  • Level 5: Post-graduate training

The chart below shows the 11 religious groups I looked at, and their average (mean) education level. Note that Jews are the best-educated (presumably for cultural reasons), followed by Atheists/Agnostics (possibly because many people in the US become Atheists/Agnostics while at university). The lowest average education levels were for Other Protestants (which includes Black Protestants) and for Hispanic Catholics. Each coloured bar has an “error range,” which is the 95% confidence interval (calculated using bootstrapping). Religious groups with overlapping error ranges can’t really be distinguished statistically:

I “chunked” these education levels into two groups: less-educated (0 to 2, everything up to a High School diploma) and more-educated (3 to 5, everything beyond a High School diploma, be it trade school or a PhD). The chart below shows the average number of correct answers for the five questions, by religious group / education group combination. Each religious group has two coloured bars, the first (marked with +) being for the more-educated subgroup, and the second for the less-educated subgroup:

The more-educated group gets more questions right (on average, 3.4 compared to 2.3), and within both education groups, there is a similar ordering of religious groups:

  • Mormons do best (4.5 or 3.4 questions right, depending on education subgroup).
  • White Evangelical Protestants come next (4.0 or 3.1). Both Mormons and Evangelicals put great weight on Bible study, so this makes sense.
  • Then comes a group of three with similar results: Jews, Other Protestants (including Black Protestants), and Atheists/Agnostics. Orthodox Jews put great weight on studying the Torah, but many Jews in the US are in fact fairly secular. More interesting is the high score for Atheists and Agnostics – they do seem to have some knowledge of the beliefs they are rejecting (Atheists and Agnostics also scored highest on the complete survey).
  • Then comes a group of five: Other Christians, Unknown/Other, White (non-Hispanic) Catholics, White Mainline Protestants, and Unaffiliated (“nothing in particular”). Notice that White Mainline Protestants (ABCUSA, UMC, ELCA, PCUSA, UCC, RCA, Episcopal, etc.) get about one question less right (3.1 or 2.1) than their Evangelical counterparts, reflecting less of an emphasis on the Bible in mainline denominations.
  • The lowest scores were for Hispanic Catholics (2.7 or 1.5 questions right, depending on education subgroup). Given that guessing gives an average score of 1, this suggests that many Hispanic Catholics in the US have a rather tenuous link to their faith (many of them appear to strengthen this connection by becoming Protestants).

Thus if the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) is a religious meeting place, it is a meeting place between Mormons, Evangelical Protestants, Jews, and (ironically) Atheists and Agnostics.

It is also interesting to see what happens when we add two simple questions about the New Testament – “Where was Jesus born?” and “Tell me the names of the first four books of the New Testament of the Bible, that is the Four Gospels?” Not surprisingly, Jews now do worse, since the New Testament applies specifically to Christianity. Atheists and Agnostics also do a little worse – apparently they know a little less about the New Testament than about the Old. In spite of the interviews being conducted in English and Spanish, Hispanic Catholics continued to do poorly, with less-educated Jews and Hispanic Catholics providing the wrong answer to “Where was Jesus born?” more than half the time.