1. Why Are We Aroused in the Presence of Others?
2. Evolution and Gender: Doing What Comes Naturally?
In everyday conversation, “theory” often means “less than fact”—a middle rung on a confidence ladder from guess to theory to fact. Thus, people may dismiss Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution as “just a theory.” Indeed, notes Alan Leshner (2005), chief officer of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, “Evolution is only a theory, but so is gravity.” People often respond that gravity is a fact—but the fact is that your keys fall to the ground when dropped. Gravity is the theoretical explanation that accounts for such observed facts.
To a scientist, facts and theories are apples and oranges. Facts are agreed upon statements about what we observe. Theories are ideas that summarize and explain facts. “Science is built up with facts, as a house is with stones,” wrote the French scientist Jules Henri Poincaré, “but a collection of facts is no more a science than a heap of stones is a house.” Theories not only summarize but also imply testable predictions, called hypotheses. Hypotheses serve several purposes. First, they allow us to test a theory by suggesting how we might try to falsify it.
Second, predictions give direction to research and sometimes send investigators looking for things they might never have thought of. Third, the predictive feature of good theories can also makethem practical. A complete theory of aggression, for example, would predict when to expect aggression and how to control it. As pioneering social psychologist Kurt Lewin declared, “There is nothing so practical as a good theory.”
Consider how this works. Suppose we observe that people who loot, taunt, or attack often do so in groups or crowds. We might therefore theorize that being part of a crowd, or group, makes individuals feel anonymous and lowers their inhibitions. How could we test this theory? Perhaps we could ask individuals in groups to administer punishing shocks to a hapless victim without knowing which member of the group was actually shocking the victim. Would these individuals, as our theory predicts, administer stronger shocks than individuals acting alone?
We might also manipulate anonymity: Would people deliver stronger shocks if they were wearing masks? If the results confirm our hypothesis, they might suggest some practical applications. Perhaps police brutality could be reduced by having officers wear large name tags and drive cars identified with large numbers,or by videotaping their arrests—all of which have, in fact, become common practice in many cities.But how do we conclude that one theory is better than another? A good theory effectively summarizes many observations, and makes clear predictions that we can use to confirm or modify the theory,
1. generate new exploration, and
2. suggest practical applications.
When we discard theories, usually it is not because they have been proved false.
Rather, like old cars, they are replaced by newer, better models.
Let’s now go backstage and see how social psychology is done. This glimpse behind the scenes should be just enough for you to appreciate findings discussed later. Understanding the logic of research can also help you think critically about everyday social events and better understand studies you see covered in the media. Social psychological research can be laboratory research (a controlled situation) or field research (everyday situations). And it varies by method whether:
(asking whether two or more factors are naturally associated) or experimental (manipulating some factor to see its effect on another). If you want to be a critical reader of psychological research reported in the media, you will benefit by understanding the difference between correlational and experimental research.
Let’s first consider the advantages of correlational research (often involving important variables in natural settings) and its major disadvantage (ambiguous interpretation of cause and effect). In search of possible links between socioeconomic status and health, Douglas Carroll and his colleagues (1994) ventured into Glasgow, Scotland’s old graveyards and noted the life spans of 843 individuals. As an indication of status, they measured the height of the grave pillars, reasoning that height reflected cost and therefore affluence.