Skeptoid 4: Astronauts, Aliens, and Ape-Men

by Brian Dunning

  An American woman, Katherine Briggs, bought Jung’s book and was fascinated by it. She recommended it to her married daughter, Isabel Briggs Myers, who had a degree in political science. The two of them got hooked on the idea of psychological metrics. Together they sat down and codified their own interpretation of Carl Jung, making a few important changes of their own. Jung had everyone fitting into one of four basic buckets. Myers and Briggs decided that each person probably combined elements, so they modified Jung’s system and made it a little more complex, ending up with four dichotomies, like binary switches. Any combination of the four switches is allowed, and Myers and Briggs reasoned that just about every personality type could be well described by one of the sixteen possible ways for those switches to be set. Basically, according to Myers and Briggs, we’re all represented by a four-digit binary number.

  The first dichotomy is called your Attitude, and according to the MBTI, you’re either an E for Extravert or an I for Introvert. Extraverts prefer action, frequent interaction, focus outward, and are most relaxed when interacting with others. Introverts prefer thought, less frequent but more substantial interaction, and are most relaxed spending time alone.

  The second dichotomy is your Perceiving function, and you’re either S for Sensing or N for Intuition. Sensing is the scientific, tangible data-driven approach to gathering information, preferring to deal in concrete, measurable information. The Intuition approach prefers theoretical, abstract, hunch-driven information, finding more meaning in apparent patterns and context.

  The third dichotomy is your Judging function, and you’re either a T for Thinking or an F for Feeling. This is basically how you make decisions. Thinking makes the logical decision, what’s best for the situation, based on rules and pragmatism. Feeling decides based on empathy for the people whom the decision affects, seeking balance and harmony.

  The fourth and final dichotomy is your Lifestyle, and you’re either a J for Judgment or a P for Perception. This one gets a little confusing. Judgment types prefer to use the third dichotomy, Judging, when relating to the outside world, while Perception types prefer the second Perceiving dichotomy; but how that preference is determined is based on whether you’re an Introvert or an Extravert. Suffice it to say, for the purpose of this light overview, that this last of the four dichotomies, Lifestyle, is the most complicated; and it’s where Myers and Briggs most creatively expanded upon Jung on their own.

  The basic test, of which there are several variations and revisions, is called the MBTI Step I and it’s a series of almost 100 questions, each with two possible answers. Each question consists of two short statements or word choices, and you simply choose which of the two you prefer. When the results are tabulated, you should ideally have your preference established for each of the four dichotomies; and congratulations, you are now identified by one of sixteen possible personality types. Myers and Briggs gave names and descriptions to all sixteen, names such as the Executive, the Caregiver, the Scientist, and the Idealist.

  Perhaps the most common misconception about the MBTI is that it shows your aptitude, helping you determine what kinds of things you’d be good at. This is not the case. Myers-Briggs is only about determining your preference, not your ability. There might be things that you’re good at that you don’t enjoy, and there might be things you enjoy that you’re not good at. The MBTI helps your find your comfort zone, the types of activities you’ll like and be most content with; not necessarily those at which you’ll be especially competent.

  Even though neither had any background in psychology, Myers and Briggs enjoyed great success with their system. As Mrs. Briggs was getting quite old, Isabel Myers was the main driving force. Her initial idea was that certain personality types would more easily excel at different jobs, and the tool was intended to be used by women entering the workforce during World War II. However, it was not published until 1962, but since that time, it’s become the most widely used basic psychology test. It’s most often used outside of the psychological profession, and is employed in career counseling, sports coaching, marriage counseling, dating, professional development, and almost every other field where people hope to be fit with a role that would work best for them.

  So the MBTI’s practical use is overwhelmingly unscientific, and it’s often criticized for this. Criticism ranges from the pragmatic fact that neither Jung nor Myers and Briggs ever employed scientific studies to develop or test these concepts, relying instead on their own observations, anecdotes, and intuitions; all the way to charges that your MBTI score is hardly more meaningful than your zodiac sign.

  One obvious trait that the MBTI has in common with horoscopes is its tendency to describe each personality type using only positive words. Horoscopes are so popular, in part, because they virtually always tell people just what they want to hear, using phrases that most people generally like to believe are true, like “You have a lot of unused potential.” They’re also popular because they are presented as being personalized based on the person’s sign. This has been called the Forer Effect, after psychologist Bertram Forer who, in 1948, gave a personality test to his students and then gave each one a supposedly personalized analysis. The impressed students gave the analyses an average accuracy rating of 85%, and only then did Forer reveal that each had received an identical, generic report. Belief that a report is customized for us tends to improve our perception of the report’s accuracy.

  I notice this right away when I read Isabel Myers’ description for my own personality type, ISTJ, the Duty Fulfiller: “Practical, matter-of-fact, realistic, and responsible.” Basically it’s a nice way to say “Dry, boring, and punctual,” which hits my nail pretty squarely on the head. From that alone, I might conclude that the MBTI is extraordinarily insightful. But if I look at her description of my opposite counterpart, an ENFP, the Inspirer, that person is “Warmly enthusiastic and imaginative. Sees life as full of possibilities.” Who wouldn’t like to believe that about his or her self? If I’d taken the test and been handed that result, I might be equally inclined to embrace it, probably thinking something like “Wow, I’m even more awesome than I thought I was.”

  Due to these legitimate criticisms of the MBTI and its unscientific underpinnings, the test is rarely used in clinical psychology. I did a literature search on PubMed and discovered that, interestingly, many of the published studies of its practical utility come from nursing journals. Many of the other publications pertain to relationship counseling and religious counseling. Normally, this is a red flag. When you see a topic that purports to be psychological being used in practically every professional discipline except psychology, you have very good reason to be skeptical of its actual value. Should we dismiss the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator as a psychometric?

  The test does have some severe inherent problems. It’s been found that 50% of test takers who retake it score differently the second time. This is because nobody is strictly an E or an I, for example, but somewhere in between. Many people are right on the border for some of the four dichotomies, and depending on their mood that day or other factors, may answer enough questions differently to push them over. Yet the results inaccurately pigeonhole them all the way over to one side or the other. This makes it possible for two people who are very similar to actually end up with completely opposite scores. Isabel Myers was aware of this limitation, and did her best to eliminate questions that did not push people away from the center when the results were studied in aggregate. It was a hack.

  From the perspective of statistical analysis, the MBTI’s fundamental premise is flawed. According to Myers and Briggs, each person is either an introvert or an extravert. Within each group we would expect to see a bell curve showing the distribution of extraversion within the extraverts group, and introversion within the introverts. If the MBTI approach is valid, we should expect to see two separate bell curves along the introversion/extraversion spectrum, making it valid for Myers and Briggs to decide there are two groups into which people fit. Bu
t data have shown that people do not clump into two separately identifiable curves; they clump into a single bell curve, with extreme introverts and extreme extraverts forming the long tails of the curve, and most people gathered somewhere in the middle. Jung himself said “There is no such thing as a pure extravert or a pure introvert. Such a man would be in the lunatic asylum.” This does not support the MBTI assumption that people naturally separate into two groups. MBTI takes a knife and cuts the bell curve right down the center, through the meatiest part, and right through most people’s horizontal error bars. Moreover, this forced error is compounded four times, with each of the four dichotomies. This statistical fumble helps to explain why so many people score differently when retaking the test: There is no truly correct score for most people, and no perfect fit for anyone.

  And this has been borne out in observation. A number of studies have found that personality types said to be most appropriate for certain professions, notably nursing or teaching, turn out to be no more prevalent among that profession than among the general population. The Army Research Institute commissioned one such study to determine if the MBTI or similar tests could be used to improve the placement of personnel in different duties, and firmly concluded that the results of such tests did not justify their use in career counseling.

  From reviewing the literature, I do find one common theme among mainstream psychotherapists where the use of the MBTI is advised, and that’s as a conversation starter. It’s a fine way to give people a quick snapshot of what their strengths and weaknesses might be, and of those with whom they interact. To get the dialog going, this is a perfectly valid tool. But as a tool for making career decisions, relationship decisions, or psychiatric assessment, no. Although it would be nice to have a magically easy self-analysis tool that can make your decisions for you and be your crystal ball, the Myers-Briggs test is not it. It is interesting and it does have value as a starting point for meaningful dialog, but that’s where the line should be drawn.

  REFERENCES & FURTHER READING

  Dickson, D., Kelly, I. “‘The Barnum Effect’ in Personality Assessment: A Review of the Literature.” Psychological Reports. 1 Feb. 1985, Volume 57, Number 2: 367-382.

  Druckman, D., Bjork, R. In the Mind’s Eye: Enhancing Human Performance. Washington, DC: National Academy Press, 1991.

  Howes, R., Carskadon, T. “Test-Retest Reliabilities of the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator as a Function of Mood Changes.” Research in Psychological Type. 1 Jan. 1979, Volume 2, Number 1: 67-72.

  Jung, C. Psychological Types. New York: Harcourt, Brace & Company, Inc., 1923.

  Long, T. “Myers-Briggs and Other Modern Astrologies.” Theology Today. 1 Oct. 1992, Volume 49, Number 3: 291-295.

  Myers, Isabel and Peter. Gifts Differing. Palo Alto: Consulting Psychologists Press, 1980.

  36. TOIL AND TROUBLE: THE CURSE OF MACBETH

  The Curse of Macbeth should make Shakespeare’s play too dangerous to perform. Is this the case?

  They simply call it “The Scottish Play”, because even to utter the title of Shakespeare’s Macbeth is to invite bad luck. The very same bad luck, in fact, that has plagued performances throughout its history, according to theater lore. From tragedies onstage to deaths and riots surrounding performances, the curse of Macbeth is one of the most enduring superstitions of the stage, and seems to be taken quite seriously.

  The basic claim is that performing Macbeth, or even speaking its title in a theater, invokes an ancient curse as old as the play. This curse strikes actors or other people associated with the performance, sometimes killing or maiming them. This curse, so goes the tale, has its roots in the play’s occult storyline of witchcraft, murder, and ghosts. The most often cited reason for the curse is a belief at the time that Shakespeare had used real witches’ incantations in the famous scene where the three witches chant:

  Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

  The legend is that Shakespeare wanted to throw something special into the play to please King James, who had written the 1597 book Daemonologie which discussed witchcraft and warned against its use. So Shakespeare used some of King James’ documented incantations in the scene, probably hoping to ingratiate himself with the King. No good evidence exists for this, but the story maintains that some practicing witches saw the play and took great offense at this misuse of their sacred craft, and placed a curse upon any who might perform Macbeth. Now, whenever the play is given, the three witches whose spells were appropriated are awoken and it is they who cause the disasters onstage.

  If you search the Internet for examples of such disasters, you’ll find plenty. I could rattle on for 25 minutes just listing some of the many that have been reported: Actors being killed or injured during the stage fights when real weapons were used by mistake, natural disasters happening during performances, accidents and illnesses striking the crew before and after shows; the list goes on and on until you’re bored to death and would be glad to count yourself among the casualties. One such episode, however, deserves special mention for its extraordinarily high body count.

  Often cited as the most dramatic evidence of the curse is a riot that erupted at the Astor Place Theater in New York in 1849. The National Guard was called and fired on the crowd, killing at least 25 people and injuring some 120, all due to rival support for two different actors playing Macbeth on the same night at two different theaters. At least, that’s usually how it’s framed by fans of the curse. In fact, the Astor Place Riot had everything to do with class struggles in New York City, and little to do with Macbeth. Unrest had been growing for years between the working class, which included many Irish immigrants, and the Anglophile upper class. The discontent was coming to a head, and the National Guard was already in place some days before the actual riot on Macbeth’s opening night. Irish and American workers planned to express themselves by crashing the opening night of the upper class’s favorite British actor, William Macready. They stoned and tried to burn down the theater, people started shooting guns, and by morning the cobblestones were awash with blood. The next night an angry mob demanded an explanation from the authorities, and more violence ensued, this time resulting in the death of a young boy.

  The Astor Place Theater had been built, apparently, largely as a way for the well-heeled to have somewhere to go other than the Bowery Theater, traditionally the principal theater in town, but which catered to all classes. The rising American star with a blue collar image, Edwin Forrest, planned his opening on the same night as Macready’s largely as a slap in the face to this rising elitist sentiment. So although the riots were technically touched off by performances of Macbeth, the play itself had nothing to do with them. The riots were due, and would have happened whether Macbeth existed or not. If the three witches had chosen this particular performance to cast spells and cause trouble, they would have been well advised to hide under a table.

  Many people have tried to put forth rational explanations for the events attributed to the curse. Often cited is that Macbeth has a lot of dim lighting and fight scenes using stage weapons. Such weapons are still dangerous, just not very sharp; and you’re bound to have statistically more injuries in any play that has weapon fights than in plays that don’t. Statistically, we should also expect more falls and other onstage accidents in plays with dim lighting. Even in brightly lit plays, it’s hard enough to see what you’re doing onstage because of the stage lights shining in your eyes; in a dimly lit scene, you could easily be practically blind. I don’t really buy the dim lighting explanation. Granted my own stage experience is fairly limited, but when I’m brightly lit is when I have the hardest time seeing. Dim lighting, even no lighting, lets my eyes adjust and I can see my way around much better than when I’m blinded by spotlights. Other stage performers’ experiences may vary.

  But let’s stop here and think back to the skeptical process. One of our fundamental rules is that before trying to explain a strange event, you must first establish whether that strang
e event ever actually happened. In this case, we need not bother looking into the validity of the curse, or any other such thing, unless and until we’ve established that there is in fact a history of mysterious accidents associated with the performance of Macbeth that deviates beyond the range of what typically happens in plays.

  I was inspired by an earlier success I had when researching the curse of King Tut, when I discovered that a doctor had performed a retrospective cohort study on the people who were alleged to have fallen victim to that curse. He discovered that, when analyzed properly, the curse (if it existed) was not a terribly effective one. The lifespans of those who were exposed to the curse did not significantly differ from those who were not exposed. Encouraged by the publication of this study (it was in the British Medical Journal), I turned to all the scholarly sources to see if anyone had performed a proper statistical analysis of theater accidents, ideally involving Macbeth. I even assigned this task to my backup research team, a Google Groups list to whom I’ll throw a question or two on occasion when I have trouble tracking something down. It’s a heck of a list; hundreds of scientists and researchers in virtually every discipline, but even this mighty team came up short. We couldn’t find any such research published anywhere. There is no end to scholarly articles discussing the curse: Lists of tragic events, Shakespeare’s history with King James and the witches, and how to combat the curse (leave the theater, spin around, spout some profanity); but not a whisper inquiring into the proving curse’s existence.

  So, college students, there’s a research project for you. This would not be easy. First you’d have to eliminate things like natural disasters that can’t reasonably be attributed to the performance, and things like accidents striking people weeks after the play. To include these would require you to also correlate any other plays the victim may have attended, since it makes just as much sense to blame the accident on a different play he may have also seen in the same time period. Theaters may have records of accidents occurring on their premises, and those dates could certainly be matched with whatever was being performed. The number of cast and crew required would likely impact the chances of an accident for any given show, as would the use of dangerous equipment like lights, trap doors, flying harnesses, trickery scenery, and stage weapons. All of these things would need to be taken into account. It’s little wonder that we couldn’t find a record of such a study being performed.