The value of studying silly stuff
The value of studying silly stuff
Light hearted research can find answers to questions nobody was asking, but that doesn't mean it isn't important
One of the first studies the two of us worked on together was an article for the BMJ Christmas Issue. This annual special issue of the journal is famous around the world for publishing light hearted studies, as described in a New York Times article from 2012:
BMJ has devoted its Christmas-week issue to a lighter and sometimes brighter side of medicine, publishing unusual articles that vary from simply amusing to bizarre to creative or potentially important. All are based on methodologically sound science.
Our study, led by cardiologist André Zimerman, was titled “The need for speed: observational study of physician driving behaviors.” Using data from the Florida Highway Patrol, we cross referenced details from speeding tickets with a database of physicians to identify the specialties of physicians who were ticketed for speeding. The folks at BMJ thought that the study warranted some punched-up visuals, so they created an interactive animated infographic to display the study’s results (screenshot below, showing psychiatrists as most likely to be ticketed for extreme speeding).
Some other examples of the “light hearted fare” BMJ has published in the Christmas issue over the years include:
A study of the risks of sword swallowing
An investigation into the phenomenon known as “man flu”
A surprising randomized controlled trial of parachutes for people jumping out of aircraft (more on this below)
Multiple other contributions from Bapu, including a study to determine if rainy weather actually leads to back/joint pain, as well as an examination of physician golf scores
The case against silly research
The main argument against this type of research is the opportunity cost—that the researchers performing light hearted research and the journals publishing it should be spending their time working on serious topics.
It’s worth noting that it’s not just the studies’ authors who are devoting their time and energy. Even when the research is unfunded (as our contributions have been), such studies use at least some amount of resources from the larger research infrastructure. Journal editors and peer reviewers (yes, the Christmas issue articles are peer reviewed like any other) could be spending their time reviewing more serious research, and the journal could use its wide reach to publish studies on serious topics.
There certainly is an opportunity cost to this type of research. So the real question is, does it yield any benefits? And if so, do those benefits outweigh the costs?
What are the benefits of the BMJ Christmas Issue?
For starters, everyone is entitled to have a little fun now and then. The professional lives of the clinicians and researchers who read and create the biomedical literature are, in a word, serious. In some capacity or another, they are dealing with matters of life and death on a daily basis. A little respite from that—and perhaps some medical comic relief—might help them do their jobs a smidgen better.
These studies also offer approachable and fun educational opportunities to readers; they often highlight some of the core principles underlying the research methodologies used for serious research.
For example, in the randomized trial of parachutes we linked to above, the study’s authors found death and injury rates were the same for people who jumped out of an airplane or helicopter with a parachute compared to those randomized to jump out with a control backpack containing no parachute. In reading the study, however, we find out that 100% of the participants were jumping out of aircraft that were on the ground.
Beyond a funny little “gotcha,” the purpose of this study was to highlight one of the critical factors one has to consider when reading and interpreting any randomized trial to inform patient care: Who were the participants in the trial? In this case, 0% of the 69 people who were screened for participation in the trial while airborne on a jet (at a mean altitude of 9,146 meters) agreed to participate. The authors note:
Although randomized participants had similar characteristics compared with those who were screened but did not enroll, they could have been at lower risk of death or major trauma because they jumped from an average altitude of 0.6 m (SD 0.1) on aircraft moving at an average of 0 km/h (SD 0). Clinicians will need to consider this information when extrapolating to their own settings of parachute use.
So, while completely silly, the study offers an educational opportunity. In fact, the study makes for an excellent article to review at “journal club,” where people review papers and their methods together to stay sharp in interpreting the biomedical literature (we’re confident it has been featured in many journal clubs around the world).
From our perspective, however, the most important benefit of studying silly things is that it’s an opportunity to stretch and exercise muscles of research creativity. Creativity in research is not something that’s often talked about, even within the biomedical research community. Behind every experiment, every statistical test, every graph, and every carefully worded research manuscript is an idea—a question and a plan to answer that question.
Some research ideas are better than others—particularly for those of us working with massive amounts of data of which we can ask almost anything. Obviously we’re better off spending our time working on the good ones, so it behooves us to be able to come up with the best research ideas we can.
But that doesn’t happen by accident.
Creativity in research is a skill. And while some may be more naturally inclined to creativity than others, we believe that research creativity is a skill that needs to be practiced, honed, and shared with others. It’s the reason we dedicate several hours a week to generating ideas as a group, joined by folks that range from high school students to seasoned professors in a diversity of fields. It’s also the reason we publish silly studies; if we can answer questions about physician driving behaviors with data from the Florida Highway Patrol, others might be encouraged to find new and creative ways to answer their own, more important, research questions.
For what it’s worth, BMJ Christmas issue studies get cited regularly by others in the research community, suggesting they are playing some sort of role for others in their research process. The parachute randomized trial, for example, has been cited 155 times (admittedly, we cannot say the same for the speeding tickets study).
So do the benefits outweigh the costs?
This question is a hard one to answer with any degree of certainty. But we think so.