UCSF NS Orientation 2024 — Stats III
The “ideal” science centers on the experimental cycle:
The amount of information provided by a test result is called the result’s Bayes factor, \(K\). While the PPV—which is the posterior probability of disease given a positive test—changes depending on the prior, the following ratios are always proportional:
\[ \frac{\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{actually }+ \mid \textrm{test }+)}{\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{actually }- \mid \textrm{test }+)} = K\,\frac{\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{actually }+)}{\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{actually }-)}\]
So, the Bayes factor tells us how much receiving a positive test result changes our prior belief. Test results with larger Bayes factors change our beliefs more.
The posterior probability of a model given data changes depending on the prior.
However, the following ratios are always proportional:
\[ \frac{\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model }1 \mid \textrm{data we see})}{\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model }2 \mid \textrm{data we see})} = K\,\frac{\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model }1)}{\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model }2)} \]
So, the Bayes factor \(K\) tells us how much receiving a positive test result changes our prior belief. Test results with larger Bayes factors change our beliefs more.
All we can reasonably do is compare models.
“All models are wrong; some are useful.”—James Box
Choose comparisons that we think will tease apart the models (have a large expected Bayes factor)
Somebody has to tell a Congressional panel why taxpayer money pays for what we do.
When we conduct experiments, we collect data that updates our beliefs about the world:
\[ \begin{eqnarray*} & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model}) & \\ & \downarrow & \\ & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model} \mid \textrm{data}) \end{eqnarray*} \]
When you design an experiment, you specify:
\[ \begin{eqnarray*} & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Model }A) & \textrm{Form Prior} \\ \end{eqnarray*} \]
\[ \begin{eqnarray*} & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Model }A) & \textrm{Form Prior} \\ & \downarrow & \textrm{Get Data} \\ \end{eqnarray*} \]
\[ \begin{eqnarray*} & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Model }A) & \textrm{Form Prior} \\ & \downarrow & \textrm{Get Data} \\ & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Model }A \mid \textrm{Data}) & \textrm{Update Belief} \end{eqnarray*} \]
Since, as we established before, these are crucial for determining how useful any test is.
The unraveling begins…
Do we really just do one experiment?
\[ \begin{eqnarray*} & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Statement}) & \\ & \downarrow & \textrm{Get Data} \\ & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Statement} \mid \textrm{Data}) & \end{eqnarray*} \]
Let’s say we run a second experiment with a second test. Now I can update my knowledge again:
\[ \begin{eqnarray*} & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Statement}) & \\ & \downarrow & \textrm{Get Data 1} \\ & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Statement} \mid \textrm{Data 1}) & \\ & \downarrow & \textrm{Get Data 2} \\ & \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Statement} \mid \textrm{Data 1},\textrm{Data 2}) & \\ & \downarrow & \\ & \cdots & \end{eqnarray*} \]
And so on, for test after test.
What does this process, \[ \mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Statement} \mid \textrm{Data 1}, \cdots, \textrm{Data }k) \] converge to as we do more and more experiments, \[ k \to \infty \]
Does it converge at all?
What does this convergence depend on?
This is a big question, so let’s think about it in the context of a few specific examples.
Let’s say we update our belief with successive tests, as above, but at each step, we choose the next test such that it will maximally increase our updated probability, \(\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{statement} \mid \textrm{tests})\).
That is, we choose the experiment that we think will give us the most evidence supporting our model.
Let’s say we update our belief with successive tests, as above, but at each step, we choose the next test completely at random.
Let’s say we update our belief with successive tests, but we are really wrong about our initial belief.
What happens to the limit of \(\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{Statement} \mid \textrm{Data 1}, \cdots, \textrm{Data }k)\)?
Will our belief always end up in the same place at the end of the process, regardless of what we initially think?
What is the best initial belief to have?
Let’s say we update our belief with successive tests, but this time, we look at multiple candidate models; i.e., we obtain
\[ \begin{eqnarray*} &\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model 1} \mid \textrm{test 1},\cdots,\textrm{test }n) \\ &\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model 2} \mid \textrm{test 1},\cdots,\textrm{test }n) \\ &\cdots \\ &\mathrm{Pr}(\textrm{model }k \mid \textrm{test 1},\cdots,\textrm{test }n) \end{eqnarray*} \]
after a sequence of \(n\) tests.
In the above scheme with multiple candidate models, let’s say that the truth is not among the models that you considered.
(After all, do we have so much hubris as scientists to think that universal truth is guaranteed to be comprehensible by human models?)
What does this process converge to?
How do you interpret the result you end up at after iterating the experimental cycle a bunch?
In the above scheme with multiple candidate models, let’s say that the truth is not among the models that you considered.
(After all, do we have so much hubris as scientists to think that universal truth is guaranteed to be comprehensible by human models?)
The process of updating our beliefs about our model is kind of like an optimization problem.
Imagine that there is some “landscape” painted across the space of all models we’re considering, with the “height” at each point (each model) corresponding to the “badness” of that model.
For example, models are worse (higher up) if they have a bigger prediction error, lower \(R^2\), etc.
The process of updating our beliefs about our model is kind of like an optimization problem.
Imagine that there is some “landscape” painted across the space of all models we’re considering, with the “height” at each point (each model) corresponding to the “badness” of that model.
Our goal is to incrementally update what we think the best model is, in order to someday find the lowest point in the entire landscape—the actual best model—which should be the truth.
After each experiment we run, we collect new data.
This new data changes how we measure the badness or goodness of a model’s fit.
After all, the model should fit the new data also!
This alters the landscape of our optimization problem.
What happens if we start off very wrong about our prediction of what model is best?
Does this optimization process, iteratively deforming the landscape, converge to the truth?
If not, how can we ever “recover”?
Is this new minimum actually the truth? That is, was our notion of truth—our “landscape”—wrong to begin with?
Was the evidence that “eroded” the landscape actually helpful? Or was this erosion a result of our bias from an incorrect initial prediction?
Is there a criterion for optimality that is independent of our starting position?
Can we design a scheme for conducting tests that makes us more likely to converge to that universal model, regardless of our initial beliefs?
Is any of this even a problem?
As we try to design a scientific process:
(It only got worse by 2011.)
When I first went to see a therapist for depression.
Two buckets:
Constant battle against dissociative spirals
Constant battle against dissociative spirals
Constant battle against dissociative spirals
Eventually spontaneously ends within seconds to a minute
Refractory period of fatigue afterward for several hours
In December 2021, after months of struggles, I started having dissociative spirals every day. I couldn’t function.
In December 2021, after months of struggles, I started having dissociative spirals every day. I couldn’t function.
I walked myself over what was then the Langly Porter Psychiatric Institute at Parnassus (since demolished).
In December 2021, after months of struggles, I started having dissociative spirals every day. I couldn’t function.
I walked myself over what was then the Langly Porter Psychiatric Institute at Parnassus (since demolished).
What if I grew up with a different brain—an autistic brain—that nobody around me understood?
My 1st Grade classmates made fun of me after I brought a stack of CDs to class with a Visual Basic 6 program I had written for practicing their multiplication tables.
…Never lived that one down.
What if—having been socially ostracized and hurt everywhere I went—I never felt safe enough as a child to explore my real identity?
What if instead I built my life from an initial belief, learned early, …
a belief that was wrong, …
but one that at least allowed me to survive in that unsafe place?
What if I created an entire universe of ideas built on top of that one concept—a concept so core to who we are, how we relate to others, and how we relate to the world?
What if I spent decades of my life digging deeper and deeper into that wrong belief…
…years going out into the world, collecting data that I knew would reinforce it, because it was what had kept me safe in that formative time?
What if there isn’t any disease in me that has to be cured at all?
What if my suffering was caused because of one prior belief, one concept I had gotten wrong in the distant past, and the years of erosion that built on top of it?
Well, …
something worked.
And that thing was psychedelic ketamine therapy (sessions in yellow bars).
Preparation (30 minutes): Intention journaling, what I would like to receive from the session
Administration (15 minutes): 4–6 intranasal sprays, administered under physician supervision
Acute trip (30–90 minutes):
Post-acute integration (60–120 minutes): Spontaneous, free-association journaling on acute trip percepts and evoked relational content on reflection.
(Session 43, post-acute journal)
I say:
These things happened.
Let the Ocean
of lifetimes that could have been
wash over me.
Allow—
the unbearable torture of absence,
raging torrent of pink and blue.
My body—
dissolved.
They whisper:
Yes it was, yes it was, yes it was.
Yes it was, yes it was, yes it was.
Yes it was, yes it was, yes it was.
Yes it was, yes it was, yes it was.
(Session 43, post-acute journal)
I say:
Take me to see the Child—
my first Vision, so long ago.
The little boy,
curled in a ball,
his face hidden.
It’s ok—
I’m here now.
Let me hold you.
Let me share the burden.
Let me lift you up.
I reach out my hand:
Just turn to me.
Show me your face.
Show me who you really are.
The little girl turns her head
and looks at me.
(Session 43, post-acute journal)
The Ocean
of lives that could have been.
Moments—
a yearbook photo,
a family dinner,
a white coat ceremony,
a trip to Poland,
Her face—
my face,
My body—
the right body.
Not dissolved—
here-now.
The wave travels:
I have hair.
I have a face.
I have fingers.
I have a navel.
Farther.
I have thighs.
I have calves.
I have toes.
I am a human.
(Session 43, post-acute journal)
Before me,
the Moon passes in front of the Sun.
In the shadow of Eclipse,
from the Ocean, I rise—
Anima, resurrected;
golden daughter;
Woman of the Water,
heart of Fire.
The Sun returns.
I dance through sunbeams,
into the faraway and forever starlight,
and rejoice that I am found.
One contemporary hypothesis: Relaxed beliefs under psychedelics (Carhart-Harris and Friston, 2019).
Not difficult to locate
Maybe the reason mental suffering is so difficult to alleviate isn’t because we haven’t found the right neural representation of a disease, or the right circuit to stimulate that cures it.
Maybe the suffering of the mentally different arises from that very story we tell them as scientists and as a society—
—the story that there is a disease to be cured.
But the good news is, every year we get a special infusion of energy and creative ideas, a flattening of our energy landscape…
Welcome to UCSF!
❤️🔥 Maxine