Lost Data
Hi all,
Think about the last time you filled out a hand-written survey. Not an online form where you quickly click the Yes/No or Agree/Disagree radio buttons and then ‘Submit,’ but a true, in-person survey where you write your answers on a piece of paper. Maybe it was a petition outside your grocery store or an intake form at your doctor’s office.
Now think about what your handwriting looked like on that form. Was it curly and light? Did you press hard and use block letters? All caps? What kind of pen did you use? Was it yours or was it given to you? Did your writing cross lines on the page or extend into the margins?
I’ve been thinking about these attributes of data collection lately. It’s not the data that was intended to be collected, but is data nonetheless. In a recent conversation with my friend Stefanie Posavec, she called them “lost data.”.
“There's data that's collected by a study; then there's data that isn't collected….so there's all this data that's actually being lost. Because it's not being collected….it's like additional information about these people. But we've chosen not to collect it.” -Stefanie Posavec
How people answer a question—whether in writing or in an interview—can tell you more about the person. Their mood, their motivation, their behavior. But those data go uncollected by the researcher even though they may hold keys to better understanding people and their experiences.
Last May, Chrstine Emba of the Washington Post asked attendees of the National Gun Show in Chantilly, Virginia to write down what gun ownership meant to them. Most replied with the word “protection.” But, for me, what’s impactful about Emba’s story are respondent’s handwritten answers to that prompt. Respondents didn’t blindly type something into a digital form or check a box on a survey; they took time to provide that information. And the different handwriting styles enables me to imagine who the person is and imagine their experience and their identity.
Over the last three years or so, I’ve written and edited six issues of the Urban Institute’s Do No Harm project. Those guides challenge those of us who work with data to think about taking an equitable and inclusive approach to our work. One of the guide’s core tenets is to listen to people so that we can better understand their perspectives and experiences. In the first report, we argued that:
“Quantitative researchers and analysts especially should consider how best to incorporate qualitative methods when conducting research that engages lived experiences. Long-form surveys, interviews, and focus groups can provide an important opportunity for community members to share their experiences and lift up their voices. Such questions can also help answer “why” questions and surface themes in the responses.”
In doing this qualitative work, I wonder if we can therefore do a better job of capturing this “lost data.”
Separating the task of data visualization from the rest of the data workflow (i.e., collecting, analyzing, etc.), lost data overlaps with Giorgia Lupi’s Data Humanism concept where “Data, if properly contextualized, can be an incredibly powerful tool to write more meaningful and intimate narratives.” But contextualizing only the data we collect leaves out the data we miss. This is the challenge of lost data.
Sometimes the most meaningful data are not necessarily what is available to us. So often when working with data we tend to focus only on the numbers that are already there without realizing that they can actually become much more meaningful if we're able to uncover a more nuanced and expressive type of data along them. -Giorgia Lupi, University of Michigan
All of this being said, recording “lost data” doesn’t come without concerns. How would we address the privacy considerations with data that are not necessarily part of the “official” data collection process? How do our biases and preconceptions potentially influence how we might collect lost data? So while I think we should consider adding to our data collection efforts, we should first ask whether we should try to collect those data.
As researchers and data visualization practitioners, how can we explore these “lost data”? Can we collect such data? And, if so, can we communicate them in a way that allows us to learn more about people and communities? Perhaps we should be more careful to use the “data behind the data”—the attitudes and handwriting and emotions people use as they answer our surveys and in our data collection.
I’ll be thinking more about lost data in the coming weeks as I work on another Do No Harm project, but am eager to hear what you think, so reach out and let me know.
Thanks,
Jon
Podcast: Alberto Cairo Unveils 'The Art of Insight': Evolution, Experiences, and Challenges in Data Visualization
In this week’s episode of the podcast, I welcome author, speaker, and professor Alberto Cairo to the show. We discuss his most recent book, The Art of Insight, and our conversation extends to acquiring reliable data and challenges people across the world face in creating useful and accessible data visualizations. We also discuss the current state of social media as it relates to the data visualization community and Alberto contemplates the future landscape for both the community and data-related conferences in a post-pandemic world.
Things I’m Reading & Watching
Books
Chart Spark from Alli Torban
Queer Data Studies from Kellty, Herzig, and Subramaniam
Articles
Why Are There Gaps in LGBTQ+ Homeownership? by Katie Visalli, Aniket Mehrotra, Matthew Pruitt, Todd Hill (*note the interesting correction based on some dat issues in the Census Pulse household survey)
Art Perception in the Museum: How We Spend Time and Space in Art Exhibitions by Claus-Christian Carbon
Datafication and data fiction: Narrating data and narrating with data by Paul Dourish and Edga Gomez Cruz
TV, Movies, Music, and Miscellaneous
Rock N Roll Ruined My Life by Nayan
Death and Other Details, Hulu
Drive to Survive, Netflix
Code 8, Netflix (don’t bother)
The Creator, Hulu
Note: As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.
Sponsor: Maryland Institute College of Art
The Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) application deadlines for summer and fall are April 22 and August 1. Spots are limited, so start your application now and talk to an enrollment coach by filling out our form at online.mica.edu/dav/.
