Bill James and the Dangers of Ignorance
12:28 PM, Apr 9, 2014 • By ADAM J. WHITE
The correction cycle is too slow? In 1998, the Republican party decisively lost the midterm elections; in 2000, President Bush narrowed the popular vote gap and won the presidency. In 2004, the Democrats nominated a dour elder statesman for president. Just one election later, they had transformed themselves in the image of their young, optimistic new standard-bearer. (And then came 2010 ... and 2012.)
And elections aren't infrequent. Every election cycle, there are 435 congressional elections, 30-plus Senate campaigns, and myriad state races. And primaries. Entire books have been written about rapid innovation in politics.
James's glib attack on politics is bothersome for precisely the same reason that Silver's blanket condemnations of political debate are so bothersome. It's not enough, it seems, to show the immense value that rigorous statistical analysis brings to political debate. For Silver, James, and others, the argument must go still further, to show that other approaches add no value of their own.
The New Republic's Leon Wieseltier put this well, responding to Silver:
It calls to mind an old line, that "an economist" (or, in Oscar Wilde's original, "a cynic") is a man "who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing."
James's most infamous example of this tendency is found not in his baseball, analysis, but in his outside interest in crime—when he became the single most prominent defender of Joe Paterno, amid the Penn State sex abuse scandal. As ever more evidence amassed against Paterno, James became ever more contrarian, mocking the public for being duped by an anti-Paterno crusade.
NBC's Craig Calcaterra could only throw up his hands:
Fortunately, that was an extreme example, even for James. And Silver has hardly gone so far overboard.
Still, their attacks on nonquantitative political analysis re-enacts baseball's "stats-scouts" debate: when James's and Silver's sabermetrics revolution reached major league baseball's front offices, too many of the young upstarts were seen as not merely proving the value of their statistical analysis, but aggressively demeaning the value of nonquantiative analysis.
In politics, as in baseball, the answer lies in the middle: we need stats, and we need scouts. Or, as the Red Sox's general manager, Ben Cherington, explained: "We’re trying to build an organization that uses the best of both worlds and the best information from both worlds and combine that to prepare an accurate picture of the player."
He should know—while he's good with stats, he was also a scout. "Because I came from a scouting background, I have a great appreciation for the things you can see with your eyes and with your experience that can’t fully be told by statistics."
Ben's a busy guy these days, with baseball season underway. But if he gets a free moment, he ought to walk down the hall in Fenway Park's basement offices, and explain all this to Bill James.
Adam J. White is a lawyer in D.C., and a Red Sox fan, and the owner of more than his fair share of sabermetrics books. He previously wrote on Silver and forecasting (and baseball) for City Journal.
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