For the Nieman Lab’s Predictions for Journalism 2015, Zeynep Tufekci writes that
We’re seeing the birth of a new era, the era of judging machines: machines that calculate not just how to quickly sort a database, or perform a mathematical calculation, but to decide what is “best,” “relevant,” “appropriate,” or “harmful.”
Tufekci believes we’re increasingly “creeped out” by this trend, and she thinks that’s appropriate. It’s not the algorithms themselves that bother her so much as the noiselessness of their presence. Decisions are constantly being made for us without our even realizing it, and those decisions could reshape our lives.
Or, in some cases, save them. At FiveThirtyEight, Andrew Flowers reports on the U.S. Army’s efforts to apply machine-learning techniques to large data sets to develop a predictive tool—an algorithm—that can accurately identify soldiers at highest risk of attempting suicide. The Army has a serious suicide problem, and an algorithm that can help clinicians decide which individuals require additional interventions could help mitigate that problem. The early results are promising:
The model’s predictive abilities were impressive. Those soldiers who were rated in the top 5 percent of risk were responsible for 52 percent of all suicides — they were the needles, and the Army was starting to find them.
So which is it? Are algorithmic interventions creepy or wonderful?
I’ve been designing and hawking algorithms to help people assess risks for more than 15 years, so it won’t surprise anyone to hear that I tilt toward the “wonderful” camp. Maybe it’s just the paychecks talking, but consciously, at least, my defense of algorithms starts from the fact that we humans consistently overestimate the power of our intuition. As researchers like Paul Meehl and Phil Tetlock keep showing, we’re not nearly as good at compiling and assessing information as we think we are. So, the baseline condition—unassisted human judgment—is often much worse than we recognize, and there’s lots of room to improve.
Flowers’ story on the Army’s suicide risk-detection efforts offers a case in point. As Flowers notes, “The Army is constructing a high-tech weapon to fight suicide because it’s losing the battle against it.” The status quo, in which clinicians make judgments about these risks without the benefit of explicit predictive modeling, is failing to stem the increase in soldiers’ suicide rates. Under the conditions, the risk-assessing algorithm doesn’t have to work perfectly to have some positive effect. Moving the needle even a little bit in the right direction could save dozens of soldiers’ lives each year.
Where I agree strongly with Tufekci is on the importance of transparency. I want to have algorithms helping me decide what’s most relevant and what the best course of action might be, but I also want to know where and when those algorithms are operating. As someone who builds these kinds of tools, I also want to be able to poke around under the hood. The latter won’t always be possible in the commercial world—algorithms are a form of trade knowledge, and I understand the need for corporations (and freelancers!) to protect their comparative advantages—but informed consent should be a given.