What could be more boring than titles and abstracts, or than a chapter entitled “Titles and Abstracts”? Yet few aspects of the article are more important than, you guessed it, titles and abstracts. Let's stop being abstract and get concrete. Why are they so important?
1 Capturing attention.
I sometimes tell my students that, when you write, you have a minute or two, rarely longer, to capture a reader's attention. Either they are with you after that minute or two, or they are gone or not paying attention. As readers start with the title and typically proceed to the abstract, much of the minute or two and sometimes all of it are spent on these opening lines. If the title does not capture interest, readers are unlikely to proceed any further. Often readers scan a table of contents and decide whether the title justifies their even turning to the article. If it does not, you lose your reader. If readers make it to the actual article, often they then decide whether to proceed on the basis of the abstract. If the abstract does not interest them, they read no further. Whether your article will be read by many people, few people, or virtually none at all thus can be largely a function of the title and the abstract. One warning, however: Do not write an interesting title (or abstract) at the expense of accuracy or clarity. You want the title and abstract to convey what the article is about!
2 Databases.
The two aspects of the article most likely to be archived in databases are the title and the abstract. Posterity will judge whether your article is relevant to them largely on the basis of the title and the abstract.
3 Summaries.
Many people who scan journals, databases, or a journal such as Current Contents (which lists nothing more than the tables of contents of various journals) will never see any more than these two elements. Their goal is to get an overview of what you did. You thus want to make the title and abstract as strong as you can.
4 First impressions.
The title and the abstract give a first impression of you. Are you an interesting thinker or a dull one? Are you an engaging writer or a boring one? When George Miller (1956) entitled an article “The magical number seven, plus or minus two: Some limits on our capacity for processing information,” he knew exactly what he was doing. He had the reader's interest before the reader even started reading the article proper. He made a great first impression with his title, and even today the name sticks. How much less of an impact the article might have had if Miller had crafted a pedestrian title like “Limitations on information-processing capacity: A review of the literature.”
Given the importance of the title and the abstract, what can you do to make them as effective as possible? Consider first titles, then abstracts.
Titles
The title should inform the reader simply and concisely what the paper is about (Publication manual of the American Psychological Association, 6th edn., 2010; Sternberg & Sternberg, 2016). It is important that the title be self-explanatory. Readers will come across the title in other articles that refer to your own article and in PsychINFO, and they may have to decide whether to read your article solely on the basis of the title. The title should include keywords, for example the theoretical issue to which the paper is addressed, and possibly the dependent variable(s), and the independent variable(s). Keywords are important because the title will be stored in information-retrieval networks that rely on such words to determine the relevance of your study to someone else's research interests. For the same reason, it is important to avoid irrelevant and misleading words, because such words may spuriously lead an investigator uninterested in your topic to your article. The title typically should not exceed 12–15 words in length.
Everyone has his or her own style in titles, but certain titles take a form that I personally find trite. An example of such a style is “The effect of — upon —.” That may be in fact what you are studying, but the title is boring and the work sounds empirical without any driving theory. Other hackneyed forms for empirical articles are “A study of —,” “An investigation of —,” and “An experiment on —”. Such titles are also redundant, because what else is an empirical article if it is not a study, an investigation, or an experiment? If you are using a theory to drive empirical work, it helps to let this fact be known through your title.
There sometimes is a trade-off between having a catchy title and an informative one. Always err on the side of the informative title. But one possibility is to have a two-part title. Then you put the catchy part first and the informative part after a colon or a question mark. In that way, you get the best of both worlds. Just make sure the first part of the title really conveys some kind of message you really want to convey.
I recently entitled a journal symposium, “Am I famous yet? Judging scholarly merit in psychological science” (Sternberg, 2016). I thought the first part of the title was catchy, while the second part would convey the focus of the symposium. But readers got caught up in the first part of the title, and whether fame is good or bad. I learned, even as a senior investigator, that sometimes, in the desire to use a catchy title, one inadvertently can put readers off-track. A more successful use of a dual title was “What should intelligence tests test? Implications of a triarchic theory of intelligence for intelligence testing” (Sternberg, 1984). The first part of the title caught readers’ interest. The latter part said in more detail what the article was about.
The Abstract
The abstract summarizes your article (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2016). Its length typically should be 100–150 words for a report of an empirical study, and 75–100 words for a theoretical article or literature review. The abstract, like the title, should be self-explanatory and self-contained because it may be used by information-retrieval networks for indexing.
For empirical articles, the abstract should include (a) the problem being investigated, (b) the major hypotheses, (c) a summary of the method, including a description of the materials, apparatus, participants (including number, sex, and age of participants), design, and procedure, (d) a synopsis of the main results, including significance levels, and (e) the conclusions drawn from the results, as well as any implications of these conclusions. For theoretical and review articles, the abstract should include (a) the problem being studied, (b) the purpose, thesis, or organizing construct, (c) the scope of the analysis, (d) the types of sources used, and (e) the conclusions. Do not include in the abstract any information that is not included in the body of the article. Because you will not know until you are done with the outline what information you will include, you are well advised to defer writing the abstract until after you have otherwise completed the outline or even the whole article. Some journals also want a list of 3–5 keywords following the abstract, or on the title page.
The APA Publication manual lists several features of a good abstract. These features are that the abstract be (a) accurate, (b) self-contained, (c) concise and specific, (d) nonevaluative, and (e) coherent and readable. Remember that most people will read your abstract only if your title interests them, and will read your article only if your abstract interests them. It is therefore essential that the abstract be interesting. You can interest the reader by showing that the problem is an important one, that your hypotheses about the problem are insightful ones, and that you will test these hypotheses in a convincing way.
The greatest problem with abstracts, in my experience, is that they are either underspecified or overspecified. In the former case, there just is not enough detail for the reader to figure out what was done, or how it was done, or what was found. In the latter case, the abstract tries to say too much: It tries to tell the whole story of the article. Sometimes, the cost of saying too much in the abstract is that readers may believe they do not need to read the full article. So write an informative abstract, but not one that says so much that readers will not have any incentive to read the article it accompanies. Good luck!
Drafting an introduction may feel like a daunting task. The writer must engage the audience in his or her research, provide the necessary background information about the topic, and set the stage for the study itself. How is this accomplished? First and foremost, there is no one formula. Consider the following. As undergraduates prepare to apply to graduate school they often ask faculty, “What makes a successful application?” The applicants invariably think in a formulaic fashion, expecting to hear that a secret formula exists – something akin to four parts research, two parts practical experience, GREs over a cutoff score, and an undergraduate GPA of at least 3.5. They believe that adherence to the recipe will fashion the ideal candidate. Sorry, there is no rigid formula. In fact, whereas the components of the formula are indeed important to the evaluation process, different schools place different emphasis on the varying credentials.
Likewise, although journal editors and readers alike expect the introduction section of an article to contain certain features, no rigid formula exists. Instead, the components of the introduction fit within a general framework that allows the researcher to describe the study and to provide a rationale for its implementation. The framework of the introduction consists of three segments – unequal in length but each essential in conveying the background and purpose of the study. The first segment, typically the opening paragraph, sets the broad stage for the research and draws the reader's interest. The second segment provides a focused exposition of the relevant background literature and support for the decision to do the present study. After laying the groundwork, the third segment of the introduction transitions from past research to the current study, including an explanation of how the study contributes to the research on the topic, the hypothesis for the study, and a brief description of the study's major elements.
Although these three segments constitute a basic structure for the introduction, the manner in which they are crafted varies depending on the specific purpose of the study. If the study is intended to make a striking break from past research, the tone of the writing may be critical and the literature review may be used to point out the flaws and limitations of previous studies. If the study is a natural extension or follow-up of previous research, the literature review may simply describe the development of the ideas studied. When the author is trying to draw attention to an understudied area of research, he or she may attempt to demonstrate its importance to the field and make use of analogies to draw comparisons with other, more well-established domains of research. Thus, creativity and flexibility within the boundaries of a general introductory framework help convey the importance and necessity of the study and capture the reader's interest and attention.
Section I: The Opening
The opening paragraph serves two main purposes. The first is to draw the attention of your reader and garner interest in your study. The second is to set the stage for a more focused literature review by orienting the reader within a particular research framework. The initial statements are typically broad in scope, and may be directed toward an audience unfamiliar with the domain of research under study.
Several tactics are commonly employed to both engage the reader's interest and provide a general framework in the first few sentences of the opening segment (see the box, “Strategies for the opening paragraph”). Techniques often found in journal articles include rhetorical questions, analogies, striking statistics or facts, brief historical summaries of the topic, definitions, or everyday examples of a phenomenon. Consider the examples of opening statements drawn from manuscripts appearing in peer reviewed publications shown in the box.
Rhetorical question: Opening with a rhetorical question automatically engages the reader, sets him or her in the right framework, and personalizes it. The question prompts the reader to ask, “What do I think about this subject?”
Everyday experience: The author can demonstrate the relevance of the research topic by comparing it to a common experience.
Analogy/metaphor: Providing the reader with an analogy serves to broaden the scope of the topic, addressing general principles while framing the topic in a familiar arena.
Striking statistic/fact: Using an unusual fact compels the reader to rethink his or her views about the subject. The fact conveys the gravity of the topic and the ramifications of future study.
Historical fact: At times, it can be useful to lay out a brief historical background of the problem. This procedure may be used primarily in expository articles where the primary purpose is to describe the development of the domain of research over time. Historical facts also provide a historical context within which to place the current study.
Lack of previous research: By citing the paucity of previous research, the author conveys the sense of importance of the further study.
The opening paragraph below is from a study published in the Journal of Research on Adolescence that examined adolescent decision-making (Albert & Steinberg, Reference Albert and Steinberg2011):
Imagine, for a moment, that you are 16 years old. It is the spring of your sophomore year of high school, and you feel a newfound sense of optimism about your social prospects. Best of all, it is Friday night and you are ready to take advantage of your recently renegotiated curfew, now extended to 11 p.m. When pressed for your plans, you tell your parents that you are just going to the movies and then maybe hanging out at the coffee shop: No need to worry. In reality, you know that when your friends pick you up, you will head straight to the first big keg party to which you have ever been invited.
This study used an everyday experience to demonstrate to the reader the relevance of the research question. By opening with a scenario that most readers can relate to or imagine, the introduction attracts the attention of a wide audience. This relatable “leading scenario” also helps the authors prime the reader to consider the same question that they eventually propose – that is, what are the factors that influence adolescent decision-making?
Authors may lead the reader to ask the study's fundamental questions more directly through use of a rhetorical question. This tactic automatically forces the reader to become an active participant because he or she must consider an “answer” to the question before reading further. Consequently, the reader is compelled to form an initial opinion that may be in line with or in contradiction to previous research or the author's opinion. The use of a rhetorical question is illustrated in the introduction to an article in the Journal of Experimental Social Psychology about the effect of ovulation on female attentional and memory processes (Anderson et al., Reference Anderson, Perea, Becker, Ackerman, Shapiro, Neuberg and Kenrick2010):
On entering a crowded room, to whom do we pay attention? Who do we later remember? A number of studies suggest that simple social cognitive processes are often biased in functionally sensible ways (e.g., Ackerman et al., Reference Ackerman, Becker, Mortensen, Sasaki, Neuberg and Kenrick2009; Becker, Kenrick, Neuberg, Blackwell, & Smith, Reference Becker, Kenrick, Neuberg, Blackwell and Smith2007; Maner et al., Reference 53Maner, Kenrick, Becker, Robertson, Hofer, Neuberg and Schaller2005). Some of this research suggests sex differences in such processing.
This introduction draws the attention of any reader – even one who has no background in “simple social cognitive processes” – and leaves the reader curious to find out more about the study. The use of a relatable rhetorical question also helps to place the research topic in a more general framework that is readily understandable and relevant to everyday life. Notice that the question is targeted at specific constructs (attention and memory). The authors do not ask the more general question, “Why do we pay attention to certain things?” or “Why do we remember some things but not others?” Instead, the authors use the rhetorical question to focus the reader's attention on particular cognitive processes in a specific social context so that the reader will know the study's precise arena.
Another common strategy used to engage and orient the reader is to establish the need for research on a particular topic. This approach is often accomplished by opening with a striking fact or statistic that will impress upon the reader the prevalence or magnitude of a particular problem or issue. Consider, for example, the sobering effect of this introductory paragraph from an article published in Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology about the prediction of suicide ideation and attempts among adolescents (Nock & Banaji, Reference Nock and Banaji2007):
Nearly 1 million people kill themselves worldwide each year, equaling one death by suicide approximately every 40 s (Goldsmith, Pellmar, Kleinman, & Bunney, Reference Goldsmith, Pellmar, Kleinman and Bunney2002; World Health Organization, 2005). Despite decades of clinical, scientific, and policy efforts aimed at improving methods for predicting and preventing suicide, the rates of suicidal thoughts and attempts have remained virtually unchanged (Kessler, Berglund, Borges, Nock, & Wang, Reference Kessler, Berglund, Borges, Nock and Wang2005).
Although striking statistics are often very effective in catching a reader's eye, the writer should be careful not to overload the introductory segment with numbers. A laundry list of statistics may dilute the message you are trying to convey.
Another way of establishing the need for a study and garnering reader interest is by pointing to a lack of empirical research on a topic that the researcher considers to be important. When using this tactic, one argues that, although little research has been conducted on a particular area, a greater understanding of this topic or area is essential to progress in the field. For example, in an article on youth adjustment after the Boston Marathon bombing published in Pediatrics, Comer et al. (Reference Comer, Dantowitz, Chou, Edson, Elkins, Kerns and Green2014) begin by pointing to a lack of research on this important topic:
In recent years, there have been several high-profile terrorist attacks specifically targeting civilian child and family venues (e.g., Russia's Beslan school hostage crisis, Norway's Workers’ Youth League camp attack, Nairobi's Westgate Mall attack). Although research has documented the psychological toll of terrorism on youth (Comer et al., Reference Comer, Fan, Duarte, Wu, Musa, Mandell and Hoven2010; Comer & Kendall, Reference 52Comer and Kendall2007; Hoven et al., Reference Hoven, Duarte, Lucas, Wu, Mandell, Goodwin and Susser2005; Shahar, Cohen, Grogan, Barile, & Henrich, Reference Shahar, Cohen, Grogan, Barile and Henrich2009), the majority of such work has focused on attacks targeting office buildings of high symbolic value (Hoven et al., Reference Hoven, Duarte, Lucas, Wu, Mandell, Goodwin and Susser2005; Pfefferbaum, Nixon, Krug, et al., 1999; Pfefferbaum, Nixon, Tucker, et al., 1999; Pfefferbaum et al., Reference Pfefferbaum, North, Doughty, Gurwitch, Fullerton and Kyula2003), where the presence of families has been incidental. Much remains to be learned about the reactions of children affected by terrorism specifically aimed at “soft targets” such as family events. Moreover, the majority of research on terrorism-exposed youth has examined large-scale attacks with mass casualties (e.g., 9/11; Comer & Kendall, Reference 52Comer and Kendall2007; Hoven et al., Reference Hoven, Duarte, Lucas, Wu, Mandell, Goodwin and Susser2005; Pfefferbaum et al., Reference Pfefferbaum, North, Doughty, Gurwitch, Fullerton and Kyula2003; Pfefferbaum, Nixon, Krug, et al., 1999; Pfefferbaum, Nixon, Tucker, et al., 1999). Minimal research has examined children's reactions to high-profile terrorism with relatively few fatalities.
This strategy can be especially effective when combined with the previous tactic of presenting striking facts or statistics. A combination of the two approaches helps emphasize both the magnitude of and lack of attention to the problem under study, which builds a strong case for why your current study is a critical addition to the literature.
Some researchers choose to begin their introduction by briefly tracing the history of the research on a particular area. This approach is useful when the study presents a new twist or development on a topic that has had a long history of research. Field (Reference Field2006), for example, took this approach in an article published in Clinical Psychology Review revisiting a common framework for understanding the development and treatment of phobias. He began his article: “Conditioning as an explanation of phobic responding arose from Watson and Rayner's (1920) famous demonstration that aversive and avoidant responses towards a previously neutral stimulus could be learned” (p. 857). This opening sentence begins to set the historical context for his study – a research history that is detailed throughout the remainder of the introduction.
The techniques described above can attract the reader's attention and place the study in a broader context; however, they are by no means exhaustive. Although creative writing is not always appropriate in subsequent sections of a research article, some modest creativity in the introductory segment can give an article a unique appeal. Keep in mind that the more concisely one can frame the general domain of the study, the more likely the subsequent literature review will be focused and concise.
Section II: The Literature Review
The main feature of the second segment of the introduction is an illustrative, although not exhaustive, review of the literature surrounding the topic of study. The author can assume that the reader is informed about the general principles of the domain and should keep the review succinct. It is customary that the important and relevant works in the area of research be cited. Later in the paper, such as in the discussion section, the findings of the present research report will be integrated with the relevant studies reviewed in the introduction. The author should include in the initial literature review all of the studies that will be discussed later, because it is not recommended that new articles be introduced in other sections.
The literature review should be presented in a coherent, integrated fashion that links findings together around some central argument. Previous research reports can help to clarify terms, demonstrate progress in the area, or point out limitations of past research. For a longer literature review, one might consider using headings to delineate sections in which different theories, methodologies, or research traditions will be discussed. Preferences as to whether headings should be used within the introduction section vary by journal editors, so you may wish to examine several recent papers published in the journal to which you will be submitting your article before making such a decision.
When describing the relevant studies, be sure to address the features of these studies that pertain specifically to your manuscript. Recognize the aspects of your study that make it an improvement or advancement over past research, and review the literature with these features in mind. For example, if gender had been ignored in previous research and your study examined the role of gender, then the literature that is reviewed should state when male and when female participants were studied. Recognize the limits of the published literature and use the introduction to identify these weaknesses – after all, you will be addressing and seeking to remedy them in your research report. Consider the theoretical ramifications of the studies and be sure to introduce the theory(ies) that will be used when making sense of your findings in the discussion section.
Which studies and how much detail should be included in the literature review? It is essential to recognize the priority of the work of others and to credit relevant earlier works, but there is no need to cite tangential or overly general sources. Readers can be referred to other works as needed, but the text of your introduction should stay on a straight path set for introducing your research. It may be tempting to demonstrate just how much you know about your topic by squeezing in as many citations as you can – after all, you have probably read a great deal to become an expert on the topic of your study. However, a concise and relevant literature review will be more impressive and will convey a higher level of expertise than a lengthy and indiscriminate summary of studies. It is also important that the author be familiar with all of the works cited in the introduction. One surefire cue of the naiveté of an author (to a reviewer) is a mis-statement or inaccurate citation of a classic study in the field. Cite the accepted research and the established authorities, but do so accurately and only when appropriate to the research.
Typically, a researcher will cite many references in the literature review, although there is no magic number for deciding how many references to include. The number of citations found in literature reviews varies widely based on the scope of the topic and the quantity and quality of previous research. Regardless of the number of articles cited, neither journal editors nor readers will want to read the exhaustive details about each study mentioned. Instead, the writer should discuss only the most relevant details of the studies. The amount of detail in which to describe a previous study is determined by the purpose and nature of the present study. Whereas many reviews will discuss only main findings of studies, it may be relevant and important in setting the stage for your study to discuss other aspects of previous research, such as methodologies, participant characteristics, or the reliability and validity of measures. Use your judgment to present enough information to facilitate a sufficient understanding of your topic for an intelligent reader (although not necessarily a reader in your specific field) without overloading or boring the reader with extraneous information. This balance may be difficult to achieve, but it is essential in maintaining the audience's interest and understanding.
The manner in which studies are to be cited is another question often posed by novice writers. The Publication manual of the American Psychological Association (2010) describes two ways of citing research: (a) Cite the authors within the sentence itself, for example, “Smith and Smith (2015) found …” or (b) cite the authors in parentheses at the end of a sentence, for example, “It was found that … (Smith & Smith, 2015)” (consult the APA Publication manual for further details on citation formats). The first method – within-text citations – should primarily be reserved for studies that one plans to describe in specific detail or studies that are especially pivotal to one's argument. When one simply presents a brief summary of findings, it is preferable to avoid “name clutter” in the text by citing authors in parentheses. This method of citation is less distracting to readers, helps to avoid “laundry lists” of names, and allows the writer to integrate and condense the literature review by citing several related findings in the same sentence (see box, “Citing studies”).
Consider the following examples from Gar and Hudson's (2008) introduction to the role of parenting in the development and maintenance of anxiety in youth. Gar and Hudson (Reference Gar and Hudson2008) begin by citing many diverse studies in a single sentence: “Aetiological models of anxiety emphasize the importance of childrearing factors in the development and maintenance of anxiety disorders in children (Chorpita & Barlow, Reference Chorpita and Barlow1998; Ginsburg & Schlossberg, Reference Ginsburg and Schlossberg2002; Hudson & Rapee, Reference Hudson, Rapee, Heimberg, Turk and Mennin2004; Krohne & Gutenberg, Reference Krohne, Gutenberg, Hurrelmann and Loesel1990; Manassis & Bradley, Reference Manassis and Bradley1994; Rapee, Reference Rapee, Vasey and Daads2001; Rubin & Mills, Reference Rubin and Mills1991)”(p. 1266). In the following quotation, the authors demonstrate how multiple parentheses can be used within a sentence if one wishes to cite studies with different findings in a single sentence:
Parents of anxious children are likely to experience anxiety themselves (Last, Hersen, Kazdin, Francis, & Grubb, Reference Last, Hersen, Kazdin, Francis and Grubb1987) which is proposed to exacerbate an overinvolved, overprotective (Bögels & Brechman-Toussaint, Reference Bögels and Brechman-Toussaint2006; Cobham, Reference Cobham1998; Ginsburg & Schlossberg, Reference Ginsburg and Schlossberg2002; Hudson & Rapee, Reference Hudson, Rapee, Heimberg, Turk and Mennin2004; Rapee, Reference Rapee, Vasey and Daads2001) and critical (Ginsburg, Grover, Cord, & Ialongo, Reference Ginsburg, Grover, Cord and Ialongo2006) parenting style with anxious children, particularly after the child exhibits negative affect (Ballash, Leyfer, Buckley, & Woodruff-Borden, Reference Ballash, Leyfer, Buckley and Woodruff-Borden2006; Woodruff-Borden, Morrow, Bourland, & Cambron, Reference Woodruff-Borden, Morrow, Bourland and Cambron2002).
When one considers how much more writing would have been required to convey the same findings by individually citing each study within the text, the utility of the second citation method is evident.
Avoid laundry lists: A literature review should not take the appearance of a “Who's Who” entry in psychology. The author should be careful to cite only the relevant studies that provide support for the point being made. Likewise, the informed literature review will be sure to mention all the critical studies from that area of research. Journal editors will notice if significant studies are omitted.
Avoid stacking abstracts: The writer should focus on integrating the studies that make the point and avoid summarizing each finding. Stringing together summaries of studies (stacking abstracts) is the hallmark of lazy writing. The author is responsible for familiarizing himself or herself with the literature and integrating the findings for the reader.
One last point about the literature review: Avoid using direct quotes from articles reviewed unless referencing the author's exact words makes a meaningful contribution to the clarity or quality of your paper. Your task in writing the literature review is to read critically, synthesize, and integrate a large body of literature, and then to simplify and describe this literature for your audience in your own words.
Section III: Transition to Your Study
The third and most specific segment of an introduction provides a transition from previous research to the present study and explicitly states the purpose and rationale for the present study. The transition section is typically reserved for the closing paragraph, although it can sometimes be more than a single paragraph long. The earlier paragraphs/pages of the introduction have set the broader stage for the paper so that the reader will not be at all surprised to learn, in this brief segment, the exact purpose(s) of the present study. Just as the opening segment and the literature review lead naturally into a description of the present study, this description will naturally lead into the next section of the paper – the methods section. Although brief, this segment of the paper is an important transition – it is the link between what has been done in the past and what you will be describing in the rest of your paper.
There are three major aspects of a study that should be briefly covered in the transition segment of an introduction: (a) the potential implications of the study; (b) the general nature of the study; and (c) the researcher's hypotheses. This final segment of the introduction often begins by stating what the study will contribute to the existing research. This statement is invaluable – it is essentially your answer to the question, “Why have I spent my time conducting this study, and why should you spend your time reading it?” (a question implicit in the minds of reviewers, editors, and readers alike). You have just finished reviewing previous research; now state how the present study will add to, clarify, disprove, or otherwise advance what previous studies have reported. Demonstrate to your readers that your experiment is the next logical step in the research on your topic. Your literature review will have pointed out the flaws, issues, or theories that you are proposing to address or remedy, so this statement should flow naturally from a thoughtfully written review.
Once you have stated the question or problem your study will address, briefly lay out your plan for answering this question. This statement takes the form of a very concise summary of the nature of your experiment – more detailed information about the methods will be found in later sections. Among the information provided should be a short description of the independent and dependent variables and how they were operationalized in your study.
After laying out the research question and describing how you attempted to answer it, state your hypothesis for the outcome of the study. Hypotheses are always phrased in the past tense (e.g., “It was hypothesized,” “We expected,” or “The authors predicted”) because the study will have already been performed. A study may have only one or several hypotheses, depending on its scope. When there are multiple hypotheses, many authors choose to demarcate them with letters or numbers at the end of this final section of the introduction.
A final segment that covers all three points will provide a smooth transition to the rest of the paper and will make the rationale and hypotheses for the study clear to the reader. The following passage from the JAMA Pediatrics (Elgar et al., Reference Elgar, Napoletano, Saul, Dirks, Craig, Poteat and Koenig2014) demonstrates how each element of the transition segment – summary statement of the study, potential value to the literature, and hypotheses – can be met within one paragraph.
This study examined the association between cyberbullying victimization and mental health and substance use problems in adolescents and whether this association is moderated by family contact and communication. This study addressed gaps in the literature by first examining the association between cyberbullying and various mental health and substance use problems in adolescents. We controlled individual differences in involvement in traditional (face-to-face) bullying to examine the unique association between cyberbullying and health. We then explored the potential moderating role of family communication and contact – operationalized by the frequency of family dinners – on the relation between cyberbullying and health. We hypothesized that cyberbullying relates more closely to health problems among youths who have fewer family dinners.
Beyond Structure and Organization
The three segments – opening, literature review, transition – can be used to organize an introduction and present the study to the reader with increasing focus: from a broad umbrella to specific statements of rationale. But this structure is not all there is to a quality introduction. Other matters, such as page length, writing quality, and tone also merit consideration as one moves from a penultimate draft to a final manuscript. Writers should consult the most recent edition of the APA Publication manual (currently the 6th edition) for more specific details of manuscript preparation, as journal editors will expect that all submitted manuscripts fully conform to the standards presented in this manual (e.g., page formatting, citations, headings).
Page Length
Many journals provide word or page limits for manuscript submissions. The lengthy literature reviews that precede doctoral dissertations are typically much too long for empirically oriented journals. Extensive literature reviews tend to follow a different organization than manuscripts describing original research and might be more appropriate for a journal that publishes literature reviews (e.g., Psychological Bulletin; Clinical Psychology: Science and Practice). A more useful rule for research reports would be to consider that the results are the primary focus of a data-based paper, and must be as long as necessary to clearly explain your study and its findings. Consequently, the length of other sections can be determined largely by the length of the results section and should be adjusted accordingly to allow sufficient space for the paper's primary focus. For example, if the results section is only one page, then a lengthy introduction/discussion would not be warranted. In contrast, 12 pages of results would merit a lengthier introduction/discussion. When considering the length of your introduction, also keep in mind that the ability to be concise and accurate is regarded as a prime virtue by reviewers and journal editors.
Writing Quality
As in any writing endeavor, one strives for felicity of grammar and syntax, conciseness, specific rather than vague statements, and a logical flow of ideas with clear transitions. Everything you learned in grammar classes is now relevant; make sure your subjects agree with your verbs, your tenses remain consistent, and your verbs are in the active voice. You may wish to consult the APA Publication manual or other texts such as Strunk and White's (2009) The elements of style to refresh yourself on matters of grammar and writing style.
Although creativity is encouraged in the conceptualization and implementation of your research, overly showy writing can be a hindrance in communicating your research to the audience. Catchy phrases may appeal to a small sample of readers, but “cutesy” does not open the door to successful journal publishing. Alliteration that does not sacrifice accuracy may be advantageous, but faddish phraseology will not add scientific merit to the research. Catch the readers’ attention, and write with clarity and style, but do not use the research report as a format for stand-up comedy or romantic poetry. If you are accustomed to reading or writing for popular magazines, then it may take you some time to feel comfortable with the less flowery style of writing found in scientific journals. Read through several top-tier journal articles to get a feel for the style with which the articles are written. Remember, clarity is key (see box, “Writing Style”).
Concise: Writing should be precise and unambiguous. Writers should define their terms and be clear about what they mean by them.
Logically flowing: One idea should follow from the preceding thought. The reader should be able to jump ahead and anticipate what the author is about to say.
Arguments should be balanced: When establishing an argument, both sides need to be presented, so that the reader is informed about the alternative possibilities and interpretations of data. Although the author wants to present a convincing argument to establish the purpose of the study, he or she does not want to appear biased.
Tone: Whenever critiquing other studies, the tone must remain professional. Criticisms should focus on theoretical and/or methodological weaknesses of the study, and not on the personal characteristics of the author.
Tone
It is essential to maintain a professional tone throughout the introduction. Although you may be criticizing previous research, differences of opinion and controversies within the field are treated with respect. When referring to a previously published study with which you disagree, it would not be apt to state that “The brevity of the report was surpassed only by the fact that it had little of substance to offer the field.” Similarly, ad hominem statements and personal statements are of no value. Criticisms of the literature may be targeted at theoretical and/or methodological weaknesses of the cited studies, not at the personal characteristics, beliefs, or failings of the authors. There is simply no place for statements such as “Any fool would know that such findings are impossible.” The following quote from an article in Journal of Personality and Social Psychology about gender differences in value priorities provides a good example of pointing out the limitations of previous research without sounding disrespectful or criticizing previous researchers themselves (Schwartz & Rubel, Reference Schwartz and Rubel2005):
Numerous past studies have reported sex differences in value priorities (e.g., Beutel & Marini, Reference Beutel and Marini1995; Feather, Reference Feather1975; Rokeach, Reference Rokeach1973). These studies cannot, however, clearly answer these questions. First, they typically examined only one or relatively few societies. Whatever differences they identified may be limited to these groups or to the unique social conditions that characterize them. Second, various studies were based on different conceptions of what constitutes a value or on different instruments to measure values. This makes comparison of findings difficult and potentially misleading. Third, and equally important, past studies may not have covered the full range of significant values on which men and women might differ. Fourth, some of the reported gender differences in value priorities might reflect differences in the meaning of values to men and women rather than differences in value importance.
Another point to keep in mind when critiquing previous research is that one should strive to construct a balanced argument. Recognize the strengths along with the weaknesses of the studies under review. An argument will receive more credibility if the author appears reasonable and open-minded rather than overly biased and hyper-critical.
Maintaining a professional tone requires that one not exaggerate the importance of his or her own study. Recognize that your study has a limited scope and write accordingly. Never state that your study will “prove” or “solve” anything, or even provide irrefutable results. The introduction establishes the importance of the study, but reviewers and readers will be quick to notice when this importance has been blown out of proportion.
Revise, Revise, and Revise Again
Once you have written a draft, read and revise it with an eye toward reducing excessive wordiness, clarifying confusing or vague statements, and identifying words that have multiple meanings. Keep in mind that the meaning you intended to convey may not always be communicated to the reader. For instance, imagine that your introduction reviewed studies that compared cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) to medication for the treatment of anxiety disorders. You report that the CBT group had less relapse following treatment. This may appear clear to you; however, the word “group” has two possible meanings. It may suggest to a reader that the treatment was provided in a group format, whereas in actuality you were referring to the group (the treatment condition) of clients treated individually with CBT. Unclear statements such as this may be easy for someone familiar with the study to miss, but they can make the research report very difficult for the reader to understand.
Read the draft more than once, have a set of outsider eyes provide comments, and sleep on and reread the manuscript one more time before submission. Be your own critic. Of course, the facetious and fussy reviewers and action editor will always be able to find recommended changes that you missed. Steel yourself to this feedback; it doesn't hurt physically and it will help you communicate your study design and findings to other readers.
Conclusion
Writing an introduction requires flexibility within a framework. Certain components are typically present (the opening paragraph, the literature review, the transition), but the actual composition of each section varies from article to article. To use an analogy germane to current psychotherapy research, the use of manuals in psychological treatment has been criticized for being rigid and stifling creativity. However, for manuals to be effective they are applied flexibly. The components of any given manual are standardized (e.g., building a relationship, identification of self talk, homework), but the specific content (e.g., test anxiety, loss of parent, interpersonal dejection) and the application of the exact techniques (e.g., playing a game, using a workbook) may vary to meet the individualized needs of the client. The same “flexibility within fidelity” (Kendall & Beidas, Reference Kendall and Beidas2007) applies when writing an introduction. The sections of an introduction can take on many different “looks” depending on the purpose of the study. The opening segment, for instance, may make use of a historical fact or rhetorical question to draw the reader's interest. The literature review may take pages and may explain a broad domain of psychology or focus on a detailed subset of research. The hypotheses are usually concise, but may be exploratory. The tone of the writing may be supportive or critical of past research. The key is communicating ideas with clarity and accuracy within a general introductory framework. How this is accomplished remains the prerogative of the author.
Theories in scientific research serve various purposes – understanding, explanation, description, prediction, and organization of data. Articles based on theories give confidence to editors and referees that the results make sense in terms of some larger framework. Science is not just a matter of findings; rather, it is a matter of making sense of findings and then organizing them into some kind of explanatory, descriptive, or predictive framework. Theories provide such a framework. Hypotheses are specific predictions that emanate from theories. Without hypotheses, research becomes haphazard. One does not know what to expect, or one may not even have any particular reason to expect anything in particular. Here are questions you might ask yourself prior to submitting an article for publication.
1 Do you have a theory?
Articles certainly are published without theories. But the more competitive the journal, the more likely it is to require that an article you submit be motivated by a theory. The theory may be yours or someone else's. The best science, I believe, is theoretically motivated. It helps science not only by providing new data, but also by fitting the data into an explanatory, or at the least, a descriptive framework.
Sometimes we come up with an idea for research without any clear theoretical motivation. Even when we do this, it helps to review the psychological literature to find a theoretical framework into which to fit the idea. In this way, the data we collect fit into a cumulative, organized body of knowledge, rather than being a “one-off.”
In order to provide a concrete example throughout this chapter, I will describe a study I actually am planning to do – a study of the practical intelligence relevant to everyday adaptation of adolescents living in poor inner-city neighborhoods in the mainland United States. In particular, the study will seek to show that these youths may be more intelligent, in a practical sense, than is revealed by conventional tests of intelligence. In particular, they may have adaptive skills relevant to their environment that youths from suburban and even other urban environments have not developed. Further references to the study are in italics to distinguish the example from the rest of the text.
2 Have you clearly stated what the theory is?
A mistake some authors make – I've made it myself – is to state that the article will be based on so-and-so's theory of such-and-such, without specifying what the theory states. I just recently learned this lesson the hard way. I cited my own theory of successful intelligence (Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1997b, 1997c) without saying much about the theory. I assumed that anyone asked to referee the article certainly would be familiar with my theory, which, after all, has been around for at least 20 years. Wow, was I wrong! One of the reviewers criticized the article roundly for mentioning a theory without describing it. So much for my assumption! No matter how familiar you may believe referees will be with a particular theory, describe it in sufficient detail so that any reader can understand the theory.
My example theory is going to be the theory of successful intelligence as presented in its original form (see, e.g., Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1984b, 1997b, 1999). (The theory today is a bit more complex [Sternberg, Reference Sternberg2015], but I am trying to keep things as simple as possible.) According to this theory, intelligence comprises three interrelated aspects: creative, analytical, and practical. Creative intelligence is used to generate ideas and products that are novel, surprising, and compelling. Analytical intelligence is used to assess the value of these ideas and products; and practical intelligence is used to implement the ideas and persuade others of their value. In particular, creative intelligence is utilized when elementary information-processing components of various kinds (Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1985a) are applied to relatively novel tasks and situations. (If the task or situation is too novel, one's intelligence does not help – one simply does not know how to begin, as though one were presented with a task in Sanskrit and one had no knowledge of the language.) Creative intelligence is used to create, discover, invent, imagine, and suppose. Creative intelligence is especially relevant when problems require insightful thinking (Sternberg & Davidson, 1982, 1983). Analytical intelligence is utilized when elementary information-processing components are presented with relatively abstract material that is nevertheless at least somewhat familiar. Analytical intelligence is used to analyze, evaluate, critique, judge, and compare and contrast. Practical intelligence is utilized when one applies the components of intelligence to everyday adaptive tasks. Practical intelligence is used to implement, put into practice, use, apply, and persuade. It is especially relevant when problems are ill-structured (Davidson & Sternberg, Reference Davidson and Sternberg2003). Successfully intelligent people use these skills to devise and execute life plans that enable them to capitalize on their strengths and to compensate for and, when possible, correct weaknesses.
3 Have you clearly stated whose theory you are using?
Be sure to state whose theory you are citing. For example, one might cite the “theory of working memory,” but this citation would not be particularly helpful to referees and readers because there are several different theories of working memory. Similarly, an author might write about the “theory of general intelligence,” confusing readers because there are multiple theories of general intelligence, dating back to the beginning of the twentieth century.
The theory of successful intelligence is due to Robert Sternberg (e.g., Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1997b, 1997c). It has been described in a series of publications over the years (starting with Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1984b, and extending at least to Sternberg, Reference Sternberg2015).
4 Have you clearly stated why that particular theory is the most relevant one?
Often, there are multiple theories that might be used to motivate your research. For example, if you are writing about working memory or about general intelligence, why did you choose the particular theory of the phenomenon you chose? Referees and editors have pretty much all experienced reading submissions that use theories that seem to have been chosen haphazardly. Why did the author choose that particular theory? In the worst case, it will appear that the author chose the theory simply to be able to claim that he or she was basing the research on a theory. So make clear why you chose the theory you chose.
The theory of successful intelligence is relevant to the proposed work because it suggests that young people in environments with particular and acute challenges may develop intellectual abilities that are not assessed by conventional intelligence tests and that are not possessed by youths from more conventional environments (e.g., Grigorenko et al., Reference Grigorenko, Meier, Lipka, Mohatt, Yanez and Sternberg2004; Sternberg et al., Reference Sternberg, Nokes, Geissler, Prince, Okatcha, Bundy and Grigorenko2001).
5 Have you clearly stated uses of the theory in past research?
For most journal submissions, referees expect a literature review. But they do not want a haphazard literature review. One way to figure out which literature to review is to cite prior uses of the theory you are using and how they led up to your research. In other words, an advantage of using a theory is that it suggests what background research is relevant for your literature review. How has the theory been tested? How has it held up? How has it compared with alternative theories of the phenomenon in which you are interested?
The theory of successful intelligence has been assessed and applied in diverse settings (see summaries in Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1985b, 1997c, 2003, 2010, 2016; Sternberg, Jarvin, & Grigorenko, Reference Sternberg, Jarvin and Grigorenko2011). It has been tested using information-processing methodologies (Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1983), psychometric methods (Sternberg, Reference Sternberg2010), cultural methods (Sternberg, Reference Sternberg2004), situational-judgment methods (Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1997a, Sternberg et al., Reference Sternberg, Forsythe, Hedlund, Horvath, Snook, Williams, Wagner and Grigorenko2000; Sternberg & Hedlund, Reference Sternberg and Hedlund2002), and instructional methods (Sternberg & Grigorenko, Reference Grigorenko, Meier, Lipka, Mohatt, Yanez and Sternberg2004; Sternberg et al., Reference Sternberg, Jarvin and Grigorenko2011).
6 Are you using just one theory or multiple theories?
Most articles that are theory-based rely on just a single theory. It usually is complicated enough for readers to understand just a single theory and its relevance to the research in the article the readers are reading. But sometimes, a researcher may use multiple theories. There are at least four main ways in which multiple theories may be used.
First, it may be that multiple theories motivate your research. For example, if you are doing research at the interface between cognition and motivation, you may find yourself needing to draw both on a particular theory of cognition and on a particular theory of motivation. In this case, you may need both theories because the research is at the intersection of traditional areas of investigation.
Second, you may be seeking to integrate past theories. In this case, you may use two previous theories as a starting point for your integration of the theories. David Kalmar and I (1988) have referred to this use of theory as “theory knitting.”
Third, you may be attempting to show that one theory is better than other competing theories. In this case, you are using one theory as your preferred one, and other theories as alternative theories that you are attempting to show are inferior to your preferred theory. Such a use of multiple theories is common, as science moves forward in part by advancing certain theories at the expense of other ones that are not as strongly empirically supported.
Fourth, you may be proposing a new theory that draws upon or perhaps rejects previous theories. In that case, you would be using the previous theories either as bases for the new theory, or as foils to support your new theory over those previous ones.
Although this article is based on the theory of successful intelligence, it will compare predictions of the theory to predictions of more conventional theories, such as the theory of general intelligence as proposed by Spearman (Reference Spearman1927) and elaborated upon by Jensen (Reference Jensen1998) and others.
7 Have you clearly stated what the function of the theory is? Description? Explanation? Prediction?
On occasion, I have submitted theory-based articles and had referees complain that the theory is not really explanatory, or not explanatory at the right level. When you use a theory, it helps to specify what exactly you are expecting the theory to do. Are you offering it as explanatory, or perhaps just as descriptive? Are you expecting the theory to yield clear and testable predictions? Do not leave it to the referee or reader to figure out what you expect the theory to do. Tell them what you expect and they can expect of the theory.
The theory of successful intelligence offers explanatory and predictive frameworks for understanding how inner-city urban youths could excel above others on tests of practical intelligent capitalizing on their particular environmental challenges. The basic idea is that intelligence is largely socialized (Sternberg & Suben, Reference Sternberg, Suben and Perlmutter1986). People acquire intellectual skills in direct response to the particular environmental challenges they face. Thus, adaptive inner-city youths may have skills – such as how to walk to school safely, how to avoid the pressures to join a gang, how to avoid illicit drugs, how to work in a home environment that possesses challenges unimaginable to those in many other environments – that other young people do not have. They are applying the same components of intelligence as the others, but to the problems that uniquely face them. When they are tested on the kinds of abstract items that appear in IQ tests, they may be entirely unprepared to answer these kinds of items.
8 Can you show that the theory is disconfirmable?
You want to show evidence that the theory you are using is testable and hence disconfirmable. When you discuss the theory, you should show specifically how the theory and the predictions that emanate from it could be shown to be false. No one research project is likely to disconfirm a theory for good, and it certainly cannot prove the theory right – rather, it can either increase or decrease support for the theory.
The theory of successful intelligence is entirely disconfirmable. For example, the information-processing studies (see, e.g., Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1983) would have shown disconfirmation if the mathematical models underlying them failed to predict significant and substantial variation across stimuli in reaction-time and error-rate data. The psychometric studies (see, e.g., Sternberg, Reference Sternberg2010) would have disconfirmed the theory, had measures of creative and practical intelligence not been factorially separable from measures of analytical intelligence (internal validation) and had the creative and practical tests not only failed to predict academic success (convergent validation) but also failed incrementally to predict academic success beyond the success attained by largely analytical tests such as the SAT and the ACT.
9 Is there good prior evidence supporting the theory?
Although you may have confidence in the theory you use, others may not. It is therefore highly desirable to say something about the empirical evidence that speaks in favor of your preferred theory. What kinds of studies have been done in the past to support the theory? If there is contradictory evidence, how would you, or others, have addressed it? You do not have to go into a long description of all prior tests of the theory, but it will help to say something about past support for it.
A large number of studies have been conducted using converging operations to support the theory of successful intelligence (e.g., Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1983, 1985a, 1997b, 2010; Sternberg et al., Reference Sternberg, Jarvin and Grigorenko2011). That said, not all studies have been entirely supportive of the theory. For example, in early cognitive information-processing studies, unexpectedly, the regression constant (preparation-response time) in regression models of reaction times was the best predictor of fluid intelligence, not the derived components (such as inference of relations and application of those relations). These results suggested that general speed of processing was important for fluid intelligence, although some components such as encoding of stimuli, consistent with the theory of successful intelligence, showed correlations whereby slower processing was associated with higher fluid intelligence (Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1981, 1983). In these cases, slower encoding paid off in terms of people then later in information processing being able more rapidly to process the stimuli they encoded.
Thus, successfully intelligent people are not “blindly” faster, but faster when it suits the demands of the task in which they are engaging. Moreover, an instructional study (Sternberg et al., Reference Sternberg, Jarvin, Birney, Naples, Stemler, Newman, Otterbach, Randi and Grigorenko2014) taught us that teaching for successful intelligence works only if one ensures that there is close fidelity to the principles of the theory both in teacher training and in implementation of the theory in the classroom (Sternberg et al., Reference Sternberg, Jarvin, Birney, Naples, Stemler, Newman, Otterbach, Randi and Grigorenko2014).
10 Can your data test the proposed theory relative to other competing theories?
An article is stronger when you test a given theory against competing theories. Are there competing theories that you can test? If so, how could your study or studies show your preferred theory to be stronger in accounting for your data than the competing ones?
In the proposed study, the theory of successful intelligence predicts that correlations between measures of IQ and measures of practically adaptive intelligence, among inner-city youth, may be close to zero (Sternberg et al., Reference Sternberg, Forsythe, Hedlund, Horvath, Snook, Williams, Wagner and Grigorenko2000) or even negative (Sternberg et al., Reference Sternberg, Forsythe, Hedlund, Horvath, Snook, Williams, Wagner and Grigorenko2000). In contrast, the theory of general intelligence predicts that all cognitive tests should show a positive manifold – that is, distinctly positive correlations – with each other (Jensen, Reference Jensen1998; Spearman, Reference Spearman1927), and hence it predicts that the measures of practically adaptive intelligence will be positively correlated with IQ and related measures.
11 Do you have hypotheses?
The purpose of having a theory is, in part, to generate hypotheses, hence you want to state what your hypotheses are. Do not make the mistake of presenting a theory and then failing to present hypotheses.
The hypotheses of the sample study are that (a) measures of practical intelligence will correlate positively and moderately with each other, but that (b) they will show trivially positive or even negative correlations with measures of IQ and related indices.
12 Have you clearly stated the hypotheses?
Hypotheses need to be clearly stated. That is, they need to be stated in a way that makes clear exactly what the expected results are – and are not.
If the measures of practical intelligence do not significantly correlate with each other, the results will be inconsistent with the theory of successful intelligence. If significant and moderate positive correlations are obtained between the measures of practical intelligence and IQ-based measures, those results too will be inconsistent with the theory of successful intelligence.
13 Have you stated clearly the relationship between the theory and the hypotheses?
You will want to state exactly how the theory generates the hypotheses. In my experience, investigators often present a theory that is quite general in nature, and then propose hypotheses that, while vaguely consistent with the theory, do not directly follow from it. Do not leave it up to readers to figure out how your hypotheses follow from your theory. Spell it out explicitly.
The theory of successful intelligence predicts that measures within an aspect of intelligence – creative, analytical, and practical – should correlate with each other, and that measures across aspects should be minimally if at all correlated. In practice, the correlations may not be zero, because all of the aspects of intelligence rely on the same fundamental information-processing components (Sternberg, Reference Sternberg1985a). The components simply are applied in different contexts for each of the aspects of intelligence.
14 Have you clearly stated the relationship between the hypotheses and the design of the study?
Tell your readers how the design of your study will test your hypotheses. Again, don't leave it up to them to figure out. It should be clear to them why your particular study, and not some other, is an optimal way of finding out what you want to know.
The study has been designed specifically to enable us to correlate the measures of adaptive practical intelligence with each other and with conventional measures of IQ-based skills. Each subject will receive multiple measures of practical intelligence (e.g., tacit knowledge about avoiding drugs, avoiding gangs, dealing with challenging home situations, earning money legally) and of IQ-based skills (vocabulary as a crystallized intelligence measure and abstract figural analogies as a fluid measure).
15 Have you organized the article around the hypotheses rather than around statistical tests?
When one writes up results, it is tempting to write them up in terms of the statistical tests one has done. For example, one might first present analyses of variance, then perhaps modeling data, then perhaps some qualitative data. It is important, however, to write up the results section so that readers can follow the testing of the hypotheses – which hypotheses were consistent with the data and which inconsistent with the data.
When the proposed study is written up, it will be organized around the two hypotheses – that the practical-intelligence tests should correlate positively and at least moderately (r > = .3) with each other, and that they should be only weakly or negatively correlated with the IQ-based tests (r < .3).
16 Have you clearly stated which hypotheses were supported and which were not?
One can read some articles and lack a clear sense of whether the hypotheses of the study were supported, and if so, how strongly. Be sure to be clear as to which hypotheses were supported, and how strongly. You cannot use significance testing to indicate strength of support (e.g., assuming that a finding significant at the .01 level is stronger than a finding significant at the .05 level). Rather, you need to use measures of strength of effect, such as d, omega-squared, or eta, to assess strength of effect achieved.
(From here, forward, I will not be giving the italicized example because the study has not yet been run.)
17 Have you clearly stated why the hypotheses were or were not supported?
Tell readers your best judgment as to why particular hypotheses were or were not supported. Often, such judgments go into the discussion section as they tend to be speculative, especially regarding why particular manipulations did not work. You should tell readers how strong the evidence is for your interpretations. Are the interpretations largely speculatively, or grounded in data?
18 Have you related the results back to the theory with which you started?
After you have related your results to your hypotheses, you need to go back to the bigger picture of how the results fit into the theory you proposed earlier in your article. If the results are consistent with your hypotheses, relating your results to the theory should be fairly easy to do.
If your results are not consistent with some or all hypotheses, your job is harder. Do your results really tend to disconfirm the theory? Or, in retrospect, is it possible that the hypotheses did not follow as closely from the theory as you thought? Were there problems with your methods? You need to be open to the possibility that maybe your test of the theory was not as strong as you thought, or alternatively, that your test was as strong and that the theory just does not look as good as you expected, or at least is more limited in application than you expected.
19 Have you shown how the results support or do not support the theory?
Be sure to say not only that the results supported or did not support the theory, but why. What particular connection is there that links your results back to the theory?
20 Have you suggested any ways the theory or hypotheses should be modified in the future?
Finally, none of us is omniscient. Even when results are positive and supportive of the original theory and hypotheses, they may have led you to rethink some things. If the results are negative, you certainly need to rethink something – after all, the study did not work out. The discussion section is the place to indicate how, if at all, your thinking has evolved. Are your thoughts about the research the same as when you started, and if not, why not? What have you learned? Research is a continual learning process.
Do not feel bad if everything does not work out just so. I think I've had fewer than a handful of studies in my career where everything just worked out exactly as I expected. And in retrospect, those were not my most interesting studies. If you have learned something new and are seeing things in a new way, you should experience a sense of contentment rather than of disappointment. That's what research is about – constantly learning new things and realizing that not all that we once believed will always hold true.
Let's face it. Not many of us look forward to curling up in bed late at night with a spellbinding methods section. Although dedicated aficionados of the art of psychological research may be enthralled by clever, creative methods, most scientists reserve their passion for theory and data. In the family hierarchy of the psychology research article, methods resemble the poor cousin who must be invited to the party but is never the guest of honor.
This situation is in some ways unfortunate. At first glance, providing readers with a well-written methods section is analogous to describing a new car in terms of the mechanical design of the engine. Engine specifications are what make the car work, but rarely does one leave the showroom excited about engine mechanics. With a flawed design, the car will sputter and die, but a vehicle with a well-structured engine will keep its passengers sailing smoothly in pursuit of their goals. And so it goes with experimental methods. A flawed design or procedure will derail even the most impressive theory and hypotheses, whereas appropriate, well-thought-out methods can yield informative research and compelling findings.
For this reason, the methods section of a psychology journal article may be its most important and informative section. Nearly everything else in the article depends on it. With a design firmly in mind, and some rudimentary knowledge of the literature, experienced readers (such as journal reviewers) can usually discern a study's potential theoretical contribution. Methods, and particularly designs, dictate many features of data analysis. Perhaps most important, methods, more than any other attributes (except the data themselves, of course), determine which conclusions can and cannot be drawn. For these reasons, critical (and experienced) readers often turn to the methods section to see if there are obvious alternative explanations, and to see if the operational features of a study match the theoretical issues raised in the introduction. It is apparent, in short, that developing a sound design and methods, and describing them clearly and informatively, is an essential step in writing an effective and influential article.
Contemporary methods sections are considerably more diverse and multifaceted than they were a decade or two ago. Whereas designs were once limited in common practice to minor variations on the theme of factorial experiments, many more options are now common. They include, for example, quasi-experiments such as regression discontinuity and interrupted time-series designs; multilevel models; structural equation models; single-sample structure methods such as factor analysis, multidimensional scaling, cluster analysis, latent class models, and bifactor analysis; mathematical models; and temporal methods such as time-series and growth curve analysis. Similarly, digital miniaturization and other technical advances have given psychological scientists a far larger and more diverse methodological toolbox.
The good news in all this is that the field's enlarged repertoire of strategies for studying behavior, a trend that if anything seems likely to accelerate, has enhanced the validity and usefulness of its findings. The less-than-good news is that because one's audience is less likely to be fully conversant with any given design or method, more information needs to be provided in a research report, all while many journals have moved to shorten articles. As a result, the premium for effective writing has grown in importance.
Why Methods Matter in a Research Report
The methods section of a research article sets forth a blueprint of operations by which one or more theory-based propositions were transformed into an empirical investigation. Methods sections usually encompass four components of a study: (1) What was the conceptual layout of constructs into conditions and variables? (2) Who were the participants and how many of them were there? (3) What procedural details were followed in the course of conducting the research? (4) What measures were collected?
Before describing these four components in some detail, let's consider a pair of more basic questions: Why do methods sections matter and what makes one effective? Neophytes to the field sometimes suppose that theory is what matters. But consider Tony Greenwald's (2012) trenchant observation that many more Nobel Prizes in the sciences were awarded for methodological than for theoretical advances. This is because of the synergy between methods and theory: Theories suggest questions that require new methods, and new methods suggest questions that could not have been answered, much less envisioned, with older methods. It is no exaggeration to say that methodological advances free the scientist's imagination.
A report of design and methods provides more than an outline of how a study was conducted; it sets boundaries for the kind of conclusions that can be drawn from the research. There are several reasons why design circumscribes one's conclusions, the most important of which is that a given design enhances the plausibility of certain interpretations while diminishing others. Because the goal in writing any research report is not just to communicate one's findings, but also to argue for the validity of particular explanations, it is imperative to be clear about how a study's design is appropriate for supporting the authors’ theories and hypotheses.
Sternberg and Gordeeva (Reference Sternberg and Gordeeva1996) asked a sample of experienced researchers to rate the importance of 45 attributes in determining the impact of an article on the field. The highest-ranked item was “Makes an obvious contribution to psychological knowledge, adding something new and substantial.” Although many factors contribute to such impact, the right methods are indispensable. Without them, alternative explanations and operational ambiguities are likely to pose significant challenges to preferred theoretical accounts. With them, no other interpretation of the data will be as plausible as the ideas that suggested your research in the first place. An effective methods section will be explicit and persuasive not only about what the researchers did, but also about why they made the choices that they made.
How to Write about Research Methods
There is, of course, a world of difference between using good research methods and writing effectively about them. Influential articles require, first, a well-crafted design that is appropriate to the topic under investigation; second, artifact-free methods that are capable of testing the researchers' hypotheses; and third, written documentation to support the first and second points. Like a good map, a write-up of methods should illuminate the many connections between one's point of departure (theory) and destination (findings), so that the reader's path is free of dead ends, detours, and misunderstandings. To do this, most researchers incorporate a brief and clear-cut overview of their design and procedure at the end of the introduction section. This description should not come as a surprise, however; the rationale for a study, as presented in the introduction, should move smoothly and informatively from concepts to operations, so that this statement is more or less self-evident by the time it appears.
In general terms, a well-written discussion of methods should follow the three cs: be clear, comprehensive, and compelling. Clarity is important because an unnecessarily complex or oblique discussion may confuse or disorient readers just when you most want them following your logic: how your conceptualization of a problem led to the specific study that you conducted. Consider the following example:
There were four groups in this experiment. Participants in one group were led to expect success on a task described as important to their self-concept. Another group anticipated poor performance, but the task was less personally relevant. The third group expected to do well, but felt that the task was not ego-involving, whereas the final group was personally involved and expected to fail.
Contrast the above with:
Subjects were randomly assigned to one cell of a 2 (anticipated outcome) × 2 (level of ego-involvement) design. Half of the participants were led to expect success, whereas the other half were led to expect failure. Within each of these conditions, half of the participants engaged in an ego-involving task; for the other half, the task was not ego-involving.
The second statement is clearer and more concise. It makes obvious that the design was a 2 × 2 between-groups factorial, that the independent variables were anticipated outcome and ego-involvement, and that random assignment was used. Readers of the first paragraph may eventually reach the same conclusion, or they may not.
Design statements also lose clarity when they are overly eloquent or verbose rather than succinct. Compare:
All of the individuals who agreed to take part in this research were assigned very, very carefully to either the positive or negative feedback condition in much the manner that a child might disperse petals of a daisy when playing “she loves me, she loves me not.”
with:
Participants were alternately assigned to the positive and negative feedback conditions.
The best design descriptions are short and to the point. Beware of overkill. The theoretical rationale for your methods should have been made clear earlier, and there is no need to provide a primer on the general benefits of factorial designs or random assignment (unless your study presents unusual issues). If your design is very complex – but only then – an illustrative figure may be helpful. Regarding language, there may be a time and a place for metaphor and evocative adverbs within a research report, but they are distracting and annoying when presenting methods. Display your creative writing talents elsewhere. Elegance here is a function of brevity, clarity, and thoroughness. Readers may not notice the beauty of your words in a well-written methods section, but they are likely to be impressed by the lucidity of your research.
The second quality of an effective description of methods, comprehensiveness, refers to the inclusion of all relevant material that readers expect to find. Like any good organizational scheme, American Psychological Association (APA) style promotes efficiency, and there is certain information that experienced readers look for in a design statement. Although every study requires at least somewhat unique information, most articles include several common elements, so that you can get a good idea about what to include by looking at earlier publications that used similar methods. With multistudy articles having become the norm in many areas of psychological science, relying on similar methods for more than one study, it is usually expeditious to describe the first study as a template for subsequent studies, detailing only their new features.
The narrative of a methods section should be self-contained and complete, in the sense that a typical reader – that is, a student or colleague who is generally knowledgeable about psychological research but who may not be familiar with the particular area of your study – will be able to understand what you did.Footnote 1 This requirement has gained importance as the field has come to emphasize replications and reproducibility (see Chapter 19). Nevertheless, it is almost always impossible to include all details necessary to accurately replicate a study without succumbing to manuscript-bloat (and thereby obscuring the key findings of your work). For this reason, many journals now link published articles to Supplemental Online Materials (SOM), where full and fine-grained methodological details can be presented. Some researchers even include verbatim copies of their protocols and measures in the SOM. Authors, particular young authors, sometimes have difficulty deciding what to include in the main body of their articles and what should go into SOM. The publication guidelines for Psychological Science are helpful in this regard. They suggest that “methodological minutiae … the sorts of information that only ‘insiders’ would relish and require for the purposes of replication – should be placed in SOM … not in the main text.”
If nothing else, making these methodological details crystal clear ensures that readers will not misperceive your work. As essential as it is for readers to understand what you did, however, attending to the third criterion – making your article compelling – ensures that readers appreciate why you did your research in that manner. Because there is invariably more than one way to investigate most questions in psychology, it is important to make plain how the particular design and methods that you used embody the questions that your research concerns. Researchers often choose one design or method over others for reasons that are not self-evident, in which case readers (who cannot be faulted for knowing less about the problem than you do, or for approaching it from a different vantage point) may assume that other designs or methods might have been preferable. Even when a study is not hypothesis-testing in nature – that is, when it is exploratory or hypothesis-generating – there should be a clearly articulated rationale for its method.
Try to take the perspective of an outsider. Is it clear why your design is appropriate for examining your hypotheses? Can plausible alternative explanations be discounted with these conditions, control groups, and measures? What are the specific advantages of this design or procedure over other reasonable possibilities, especially those that have been used in prior research? (But remember that modesty is called for. Science often progresses in slow steps, and it is likely that your paper will be read, if not reviewed, by the authors of those prior papers.) If there are multiple control groups, what is the function of each one? Do any conditions, groups, or assessments seem superfluous? What are the limitations, if any, of your sample and procedures? (Noting limitations, usually done at the end of the discussion section, is a useful way to avoid drawing stronger conclusions than the results can bear.) Answers to these questions should be evident even to a casual reader.
The rationale for a design is not typically reported in the design statement of a methods section, which generally does no more than provide an explicit summary. Rather, it should be developed throughout the introduction, as the text progresses from general discussion of theoretical principles to specific hypotheses. A good way to do this is to be clear about design considerations as you discuss prior research, especially your own earlier studies that used similar designs. For example, one might note that a prior study contrasted condition A with condition B in order to rule out a particular alternative explanation, but that now a different comparison is called for. The more compelling the case that a design can unequivocally support a given theoretical position while refuting plausible alternatives, the more likely it is that an article will be reviewed favorably, and the greater its likely impact.
In sum, there is nothing like an unambiguous, clearly specified methods section to set the stage for presenting your results. An appropriate, concise method lets readers anticipate the data analyses that ensue, and gives them a useful framework for following the detailed presentation of results into general conclusions. To be sure, methods do not dictate statistics – research questions do – but a clear depiction of one's design makes the results more accessible to readers.Footnote 2 The more complex a study, the more necessary this account is. That is why scientific articles almost without exception describe their methods before their results.
Basic Features of a Methods Section and What to Say about Them
Psychological research is a lot more complex than it once was. Whereas in the not too distant past a few basic designs and a handful of standard methodological details sufficed for most research, the more fine-grained nature of contemporary questions and the field's growing technical complexity dictates that modern scholars become familiar with diverse designs and procedures. Thus, whereas it once might have been possible to fully describe and explain a standard research protocol in a page or two, considerably more attention is now needed. Most basic research methods textbooks explain the advantages and disadvantages of most of these designs and methods. What is not as readily apparent is how to convey their essential features clearly and effectively. Next I offer guidelines in this regard for the four main elements of a methods section.
Designs
Choosing the right research design is arguably the most important step in turning ideas into studies. For this reason, your method section should be precise and unequivocal about how your design represents a fair and informative test of your reasoning. For example, suppose a researcher wanted to demonstrate that upward social comparison (comparison to better-off others) has detrimental effects on psychological well-being, whereas downward comparison (comparison to worse-off others) is beneficial. Simply contrasting these two conditions would be ambiguous, because even the hypothesized result leaves begging the question of whether upward comparison has a negative effect, downward comparison has a positive effect, or both. A three-group design, adding a comparison-to-equals condition, would distinguish among these three potential explanations, and a method section should make this clear.
Another way in which research designs foster valid inference is by eliminating the possibility of confounds. As Crano and Brewer (Reference Crano and Brewer1973) point out, “the design of experiments should be oriented toward eliminating possible explanations of research results … which are unrelated to the effects of the treatment (independent variable) of interest” (p. 27).Consider the hypothesis that people learn faster when their subject matter is freely chosen rather than forced. One group of participants is allowed to choose which of several computer games to learn; another group is assigned games randomly. A subtle but plausible confound is that the chosen puzzles may be more interesting, user-friendly, or easier, so that faster learning, if it occurs, may reflect characteristics of desirable games rather than the context of learning. A better design rules out this alternative by yoking, that is, by having participants in both groups attempt the same games. Again, your method section should be clear about this.
Random assignment of participants to conditions is a key feature of good experimental designs (although this is not possible for variables that cannot be manipulated, such as sex, age, or intellectual ability). When participants are not assigned randomly, the obtained results may reflect the basis of assignment to conditions rather than the manipulation. Because alternative explanations of this sort inevitably weaken the case for a particular causal interpretation, you should always be clear about whether your design involved random assignment.
Whatever the merits and disadvantages of a particular research design, it is certain that reviewers and skeptically minded readers will focus on them in deciding whether your research actually supports the conclusions you favor. Therefore, resist the temptation to reserve your best writing for the theory sections of a report. A well-written, persuasive description of design is often crucial to making those theoretical contributions clear.
Here are the key elements of writing about designs:
1 The design itself. What type of design was used? Was it experimental, quasi-experimental, or correlational? How many factors were there with how many levels? Were they varied between-participants or within-participants? Were nesting or multiple assessments used, and if so, were there controls for order (counterbalancing)? Normally, designs are not referenced, although one or two general references may be helpful with unfamiliar designs.
2 Participant assignment. On what basis were participants distributed across conditions?
3 Independent variable(s). What was the independent variable and how (by which conditions) was it represented? What relevant features of the research environment were controlled?
4 Dependent variable(s). On what variables was the impact of the independent variable assessed?
Several types of designs are common in psychological research. Although there are similarities, each has its own blueprint. Consequently, the information contained in the ideal description varies from one design to another. Here are some guideposts about the details that most readers expect to find.
Between-participant experimental designs.
Experimental designs are between-participants, within-participants, or mixed. In a between design, all participants take part in one and only one cell of the design. These designs require mention of how participants were assigned to conditions – randomly or by some other procedure. If the former, it is typically not necessary to explain how this was accomplished, but if the latter, explanation is usually desirable.
In these designs, experimental conditions are specified according to the independent variables (IV). Each IV has two or more conditions (or levels). If there is more than one IV, called a factorial design, it is common to refer to the number of levels of each IV (or factor). For example, a 3 × 2 × 2 factorial design has three IVs, one with three levels and two with two levels each, resulting in 12 combinations (or cells). Design statements should always be clear about the IVs, the levels of each IV, and the factorial structure that organized them, which may not be apparent. For example, a study with four different treatment groups might have a 2 × 2 design, or one IV with four levels. Design statements are also clarified by naming the variables along with the number of levels: for example, a 3 (learning condition) × 2 (instructional medium) × 2 (level of difficulty) design.
Within-participant and mixed designs.
If the same persons participated in more than one condition, the design is said to be within-participant (the terms nested, blocked, and repeated measures are also common); for example, each subject might engage in a perceptual discrimination task under several different conditions. Within-subject designs are often employed to permit a more sensitive test of a treatment by reducing individual-difference variance. The structure of IVs (factorial, etc.) in these designs is described in the same way as in between-participant designs. Thus, a 2 × 2 within-participant study means that each participant provided data for each of the four combinations of two independent variables. But because each participant engaged in multiple conditions, order of administration is likely to be important (e.g., fatigue, learning, or reactivity are possible) and should be clear in your write-up. Common strategies for contending with order effects include counterbalancing (i.e., an equal number of participants experience each condition in each serial position), partial randomization (in which only certain orderings, chosen to control for the most plausible effects, are used), and randomization, as well as fixing the order. If your strategy for dealing with order effects involves adding an order IV to the design, this variable should be treated as a design variable in its own right and discussed.
Designs that include at least one between-participants and one within-participants independent variable are called mixed designs. In a mixed design, information about assignment (for the between portion of the design) and order of administration (for the within portion) is needed. Here is a description of a hypothetical mixed design that contains all of the relevant elements:
Participants were randomly assigned to one of two conditions. In the fast-learning condition, they were shown slides of 100 faces each exposed for 1 second; in the slow-learning condition, the same slides were exposed for 3 seconds each. Following a 5-minute delay, all participants were tested for recall. The order in which male and female faces were shown was counterbalanced, with some participants seeing the 50 male faces first and others seeing the 50 female faces first. Thus, a 2 (speed of learning) × 2 (facial sex) × 2 (male faces first – female faces first) mixed design was used, with repeated measures on the latter two factors.
There is little ambiguity about this experimental design. Of course, a rationale is needed, which should have been supplied in the introduction, as well as procedural details about how the faces were photographed and presented, the recall assessment, and other features essential to operationalizing the design. This material should follow in the methods section; the clear design statement allows readers to anticipate the details that follow.
Quasi-experiments.
Quasi-experiments are studies in which participants are not randomly assigned to conditions, usually because it is impossible or impractical; instead, explicit steps are taken to control for alternative explanations associated with the grouping of participants into conditions (Cook & Campbell, Reference Cook and Campbell1979; West, Cham, & Liu, Reference West, Cham, Liu, Reis and Judd2014). The most common quasi-experimental design in psychology is the non-equivalent control group design, which contrasts groups differing in some treatment or naturally occurring event. For example, one might compare the postgraduate success of science and nonscience majors; or emotional well-being among victims and nonvictims of natural disasters. Quasi-experiments differ from true experiments in that participants are not randomly assigned to treatments, but they differ from correlational studies by incorporating procedures to control for pre-existing differences between groups. Typically this involves pre- and postmeasurement, or assessment of related background variables (called covariates), so that treatment groups can be equated statistically. For example, in the postgraduate success case, one might attempt to rule out other predictors of postgraduate success by controlling for SAT scores and socioeconomic background.
Structurally, quasi-experimental designs can be described in terms quite similar to those used in randomized experiments, with additional information on the procedures adopted to evaluate alternative explanations. Because they are not as well known as randomized experiments, quasi-experiments should be described carefully, with particular attention to internal validity. Although quasi-experiments are unlikely to replace randomized experiments in research committed to definitive demonstrations of causality, they have become increasingly popular for field research and for evaluating the impact of naturally occurring events and interventions. Their uniqueness places a premium on transparency and precision. If presented clearly and compellingly, readers will be in the best position to gauge the success of your work in supporting your preferred explanation over alternatives.
More complex within-participant designs.
Designs involving repeated assessment of the same individuals have become increasingly popular in psychological research. In developmental psychology, longitudinal studies examine patterns of change and consistency across time spans as long as a lifetime. Daily event studies examine behavior and emotion in natural contexts by repeated assessments over varying intervals, such as several times a day or every day for several months (Reis, Gable, & Maniaci, Reference 81Reis, Gable, Maniaci, Reis and Judd2014). Time-series designs investigate sequential change from one observation to the next, typically over many closely spaced intervals. These and other similar designs allow investigators to address hypotheses about variability and change with greater precision than is afforded by standard methods.
Describing these designs in journal format requires clarity about the units of assessment. How many data collections were there for each participant, and how were they spaced? (Irregular or inconsistent schedules from one participant to another usually create problems for data analysis and interpretation.) If the intervals are close in time, is there any possibility of overlap or confounding? Attrition is always a problem in longitudinal designs: What steps were taken to minimize attrition and/or examine its impact? Likewise, with multiple assessments, missing data are inevitable: How was this problem addressed? Perhaps most important, because statistical methods for these designs can be highly specialized, descriptions of a design may be more informative if aligned with consideration of the appropriateness of a particular analysis. For example, time-series designs are usually clearer if the method for examining trends across time is specified.
Correlational designs.
Correlational designs are based on measured, as opposed to manipulated, variables, and therefore are generally not used to test causal hypotheses. Nevertheless, correlational designs often yield valuable findings that contribute to our knowledge about human behavior. Furthermore, because certain variables cannot be manipulated – for example, sex, age, intellectual or athletic ability, national origin or residence, and personality – they can only be studied correlationally. Isolating, identifying, and making sense of patterns of association among variables, the major functions of correlational methods, are therefore necessary and desirable strategies in many areas of psychology.
Diverse and highly sophisticated correlational methods are rapidly becoming standard fare in psychological research. For example, hierarchical regression analysis permits separation and independent scrutiny of variance components representing distinct hypotheses and processes; techniques such as factor analysis, multidimensional scaling, and latent class analysis can help identify underlying structural organization within complex systems of variables; and covariance structure methods (e.g., structural equation modeling) allow researchers to evaluate how well a given dataset fits alternative theoretical models. When these techniques are used for theory-testing purposes, as they are increasingly, it is desirable to specify a conceptual model in advance, often in the form of a diagram, so that theory testing can be distinguished from post hoc data fitting.
Given the extensive array of correlational strategies and techniques, the primary consideration in writing a methods section is defining the assessments and procedures, and illuminating their affinity to the questions under scrutiny. Although this should not become a discussion of statistical technique, it is important to show how the study fits the method. Correlational methods applied ambiguously or seemingly chosen more for convenience than appropriateness are unlikely to tell a convincing substantive story. Be sure to describe carefully how all variables relate to the overall analytic design, and be clear in showing that their role was determined not by post hoc data snooping, but instead by following a well-articulated theory-driven plan. In addition, the various correlational methods each have their own criteria and conventions that readers will need to know. The likelihood that many readers will have only passing familiarity with your methods makes the three cs – to be clear, comprehensive, and compelling – all the more important.
Participants
Understanding the outcome of a research study almost always depends on who the participants were, so it is essential to be clear about your sample and how it was selected. The “participants” section of a journal article is usually short and simple; there is no place for eloquence here. Tell readers how many people took part in your study and explain how you reached that number – an a priori power analysis is usually the best way to determine an adequate sample size (but other methods may also be appropriate). Then, describe the sample in terms of any incentives they received – e.g., money, course credit, feedback – and the participants’ pertinent characteristics.Footnote 3 Typically, this means demographic characteristics such as sex, age, and ethnicity, but other attributes are also likely to matter depending on your topic. For example, a study of retired persons might describe participants’ health status, whereas a study of pregnant women might report their relationship circumstances. The point is to give readers (and also future meta-analysts) the information they need to appreciate how your findings may generalize to other persons and settings.
It is also critically important to fully and unconditionally disclose all criteria used to include and exclude participants. That is, what considerations led someone to be eligible for your study – for example, were they students in the subject pool at your university or were they community residents who had a certain illness or disorder? And, what criteria were used to exclude data from some participants from the main analyses – common examples here might be equipment failure, incomplete responses, or evidence that the participant did not respond honestly. This information is particularly important so that other scholars can make informed judgments about the possibility of bias in your conclusions, and also so that potential replicators can completely reproduce all of the details of your data collection and analysis.
Procedures
The procedures section of a research article describes how a study was conducted. This includes details about the recruitment of participants and how the research protocol was administered to them. Be specific here about the setting of your research: Was it conducted in a lab, in a field context, or online, and who was involved in its execution, for example a trained undergraduate research assistant or a skilled interventionist? The most important procedural information describes how the manipulation or intervention, if there was any, was realized, notably including the method for assigning participants to conditions (just calling it “random” may not be enough: How was randomness carried out?), as well as the steps taken to minimize the possibility of experimenter bias. For example, were the experimenters blind to the participants’ experimental condition? It is often helpful to report verbatim key portions of the instructions, so that readers can form a vivid impression of your study conditions. To be sure, there is sometimes a fine line between over-reporting and under-reporting. It is usually not desirable, for example, to specify the color of the chairs that participants sat on, nor how the experimenter greeted them when they arrived. On the other hand, in some cases these details may be important, and if so, they should be reported. If the description seems lengthy, present only the most essential elements in the text proper, while providing a full account in the SOM.
The procedures section also should explain how the data were collected and managed (i.e., in many protocols, a considerable amount of preprocessing is needed to turn raw data into usable variables, and these steps should be communicated thoroughly). If specialized equipment was used, it should be described fully, along with details about how the equipment was calibrated or the data were tabulated. Several more technical fields of psychological science have specific reporting guidelines, and these should be followed in most instances; for example, research involving functional magnetic resonance imaging (Poldrack, Fletcher, Henson, Worsley, Brett, & Nichols, Reference Poldrack, Fletcher, Henson, Worsley, Brett and Nichols2008), or, for randomized clinical trials, the well-regarded CONSORT statement (Moher, Altman, & Schulz, Reference Moher, Altman and Schulz2010). If your study involved translation of text into a language other than its original language, describe the steps taken to ensure fidelity.
Finally, many articles include an account of probes for suspicion and debriefing. This information can be useful for readers who are wondering about participants’ level of engagement in the protocol.
Measures
In this section, authors provide information about all measures used in their research. If the measures are pre-existing, it is usually sufficient to cite articles in which the measure was initially reported or updated. Any available information about reliability and validity of the measure in the current sample should be provided, along with details about the measurement scales used (e.g., 1–5, –3 to +3, etc.), as well as verbal anchors for scale values. If other types of measures were used, such as reaction times or behavioral coding, the nature of the instrument should be described fully here. As with other parts of the methods section, one should report only those details that are required to appreciate a study's findings. More detailed information should be presented in the SOM.
Conclusion: Writing about Methods for Impact
From a literary standpoint, methods sections are among the easier parts of a journal article to write. Aside from making your statements clear, comprehensive, and compelling, there's little more that needs to be said. Literary simplicity should not be confused with import, however; the methods section is critical, leaving little room for error or omission. The value of elegant, creative, and timely theorizing notwithstanding, behavioral science at its core is all about the evidence, and how well it supports a given set of principles. Such support is a direct consequence of rigorous methods. Good designs and exacting procedures provide a strong foundation for the validity of conclusions by fostering particular explanations and ruling out others. Poor methods are either inappropriate to the conclusions or invite conceptual ambiguity. In short, the extent to which a study adds to knowledge depends as much on methods as on anything else.
Strategically, methods are vital for publishing one's research in top journals. My experience as an editor and reviewer suggests that the first question reviewers (and other readers) ask is whether the obtained results of a study validly and unambiguously support the conceptual conclusions that an author advocates. If the answer is no, or even maybe not, reviewers are likely to raise substantial questions about a paper's contribution to the literature, irrespective of its theoretical polish and many highly significant results. Methods are a big part of that judgment – if anything, as the field's methodological diversity grows, a persuasive, well-crafted description of methods is increasingly important – and it is therefore advantageous to prepare this material with skeptical reviewers in mind.
Using good research methods but writing poorly about them is like painting a magnificent work of art and then exhibiting it behind an opaque screen. The painting may be inherently excellent and important, but no one is likely to know about it. And unlike works of art, which are sometimes created for the artist's private enjoyment, research needs to be publicized if it is to influence future research and applications by others. Thus, although methods sections may not inspire bedtime enthusiasm, their impact is unmistakable.
My first encounter with 2018 began when I clicked on an emailed link to the APS Observer's “Firm foundations: Leading researchers name the most replicated findings in psychological science” (Klatzky et al., Reference Klatzky, Au, Berntsen, Bar, Dawson, Hartfiled and Weber2018). In the wee hours of 2018, I found myself reflecting, once again, on how profound the impact of the so-called “replication crisis in psychology”Footnote 1 is on the everyday functioning of the field. In essence, it does not matter whether one believes that psychology is in crisis or not. What matters is that the almost ten years of intense discussion about the crisis has generated a body of literature that cannot be ignored by any scholar of psychology, junior or senior, novice or expert, in any of its subfields. Thus, the point of this chapter is to reflect on the expectations that this current crisis has imposed on the ways that every psychologist, in whatever subfield and of whatever orientation, should perform data analyses (defined here as the conceptualization, implementation, and presentation of data analyses).
Even professional statisticians, however defined, vary in their preferences for general and specific approaches to practicing data analyses. The same is even more true, perhaps, for the majority of “lay” contributors (i.e., those of us who are not professional statisticians) to scientific literature. An oft-used metaphor pertaining to conducting data analyses is that of a culinary recipe. There are generic types of food (e.g., soups, sides, desserts) and specific dishes (e.g., Kiev chicken, Wiener schnitzel, Polish kielbasa), but there are no universal recipes for any one type of food. Chefs, food writers, and eaters recognize that ingredients and conditions differ; precise weights and measures do not equate to a culinary delight.
Indeed, the first rule of data analysis is that there are no exact rules. This is, in part, because the data that are generated in the field are highly variable, and new types of data, requiring new data-analytic techniques, keep emerging, formulating new challenges for data analysts. To illustrate, the recently emerged availability of big data, the easy access to such data, and the low cost of processing these data have generated a demand for new types of analytic techniques, previously of interest to only a rather narrow circle of specialists (e.g., machine learning). This demand has led to the emergence of new data institutes, both in industry and in academia, and, correspondingly, new data science interdisciplinary educational programs that allow trainees from various disciplines (e.g., psychology, computer science, education, engineering, genomics, neuroscience, medicine) to learn general principles for handling, processing, and analyzing big data.
Yet, such new developments by no means cancel out the importance of now classic reflections on the philosophy of data analyses in psychology (e.g., Abelson, Reference Abelson1995; Becker, Reference Becker1998). Any development within such a large and highly populated field as psychology merely produces new issues, both anticipated and unanticipated. It is fair to say that, in the second decade of the twenty-first century, the field of psychology has been dominated by nascent and important discourse on various issues pertaining to “rigorous research design and conduct as well as full and transparent research reporting, with the larger goal of enhancing research reproducibility” (www.nih.gov/research-training/rigor-reproducibility/principles-guidelines-reporting-preclinical-research). The quality of research in a number of scientific disciplines, including psychology, has come under intense scrutiny. In fact, as an outcome of this scrutiny, a new research discipline has emerged referred to as “metascience” – the reflection of science on itself, a systematic body of research regarding science and scientific methods (Munafò et al., Reference Munafò, Nosek, Bishop, Button, Chambers, Percie du Sert and Ioannidis2017). Metascience principles, while still being formulated, have already impacted funding agencies and peer reviewed research journals. The US National Institutes of Health, for example, have generated a set of guidelines encompassing issues ranging from compliance with community-based nomenclature standards to rigorous statistical design and the avoidance of unintentional bias, for example via randomization and blinding in preclinical as well as clinical research (www.nih.gov/research-training/rigor-reproducibility/principles-guidelines-reporting-preclinical-research).
The intention of these guidelines is not to be prescriptive and to provide a one-size-fits-all algorithm of various components, including the data-analytic component, of rigorous research. Rather, the intention is to solicit and support good decision-making by researchers as they go through the many “turns” of setting the parameters of their research. Documenting these turns, philosophers and scientists in various disciplines have demonstrated that certain research practices, incentives, and infrastructure challenges may lead to the generation of unreproducible results (Munafò et al., Reference Munafò, Nosek, Bishop, Button, Chambers, Percie du Sert and Ioannidis2017). It has been argued that dangers to reproducible science can occur at many, and even all, steps of any scientific work, from literature review to generating conclusions. Thus, it has been demonstrated in a simulation study (Simmons, Nelson, & Simonsohn, Reference Simmons, Nelson and Simonsohn2011) that such (and, in fact, there are many more!) decisions as choosing among dependent variables, choosing sample size, using (or not) covariates, and reporting subsets of experimental conditions are sources of variability in the strength of the evidence for (or against) a false hypothesis. For example, in their simulation, the decision to control (or not) for gender or for an interaction between gender and the independent variable led, at p < .05, to a false-positive rate of 11.7 percent. When a researcher exercises flexibility (i.e., making data-convenient decisions resulting in statistical significance) with regard to all four of the above-mentioned decision-making dimensions, the false-positive rate reaches 61 percent!
Whether or not the reader agrees with the sentiment that psychology is in crisis, whether the reader believes that the perceived crisis is based on an epistemological misunderstanding, i.e., misinterpretation or misapplication of concepts and methods (Laws, Reference Laws2016; Stroebe & Strack, Reference Stroebe and Strack2014) or statistical mêlées, i.e., disagreements on data-analytic approaches (Peng, Reference Peng2015), or has some other theory on the nature of the crisis, a decade of dancing about the crisis and its various aspects in the psychological literature has generated a set of robust and low-cost recommendations pertaining to how data analyses should be conceived, conducted, and reported. Such recommendations exist for a variety of specific subfields of psychology – for example, specific discussions on issues in electrophysiology (M. X. Cohen, Reference Cohen2017), neuroimaging (Gorgolewski & Poldrack, Reference Gorgolewski and Poldrack2016; Kellmeyer, Reference Kellmeyer2017), comparative psychology (Stevens, Reference Stevens2017) – as well as for the entire field (e.g., Simmons et al., Reference Simmons, Nelson and Simonsohn2011). The relevant literature is rich and cannot be given justice in this short chapter. Correspondingly, here only the highlights of this literature will be discussed: five specific recommendations regarding how to conceive, perform, and report data analyses in this era of increased scrutiny of the psychological sciences.
Specific Strategies
The section above outlined the general mood of today's field of psychology. A data analyst today should anticipate the expectation that the data presented in the article are readily available (provided that the requirements of the funding agency or the entity, e.g., the university sponsoring the research, are met), that the raw data from which the analyzed dataset was derived are stored and recoverable, and that the analytical sequence (data preprocessing, analyses, and visualization) that led to the results section is well documented and thus reproducible by an independent researcher. In this section, some specific recommendations are presented that reflect the standards of current data analytic practices in the field of psychology.
The Data Analyses Section
The data analyses section is where the author needs to communicate how the analytic procedures were selected and implemented (i.e., the actual methods used to perform the analyses). This description should be marked by the same care and rigor as the description of the other methods (e.g., how participants were selected, what experimental paradigms were used, or what assessments were administered) used in the work. APA style does not call for a separate data analyses section; there are examples of researchers including specifics of their analytic procedures in the methods section (Hein et al., Reference Hein, Tan, Rakhlin, Doyle, Hart, Macomber and Grigorenko2017) or in the results section (Haeffel et al., Reference Haeffel, Hein, Square, Macomber, Lee, Chapman and Grigorenko2017), or placing them in their own section (Mourgues, Tan, Hein, Elliott, & Grigorenko, Reference 98Mourgues, Tan, Hein, Elliott and Grigorenko2016). As all three approaches are practiced in APA journals, all three are acceptable. The point here is that, wherever this information is placed, the degree of detail in this section should be such that a peer scientist should be able to replicate the work and arrive at the same results if given access to the data used in the published article. A paragraph in which one sentence lists a handful of analytical approaches and the other mentions a type (or types) of software utilized in the analyses is as helpful as a list of actions at the end of a recipe to “get, slice, mix, sauté, stuff, and broil.” Although the standards of different professional journals differ, a good data analyses section typically includes the following five subsections: (1) data-analytic philosophy (i.e., a subsection on the general framework in which the data analyses were carried out); (2) statistical power (i.e., a subsection including a discussion of the sample size and the likelihood that a study will detect an effect of particular size(s) when there is an effect to be detected); (3) data preprocessing (i.e., a subsection on how the raw data were handled to prepare them for the analyses); (4) analytic techniques (i.e., a subsection on what software, routines and/or macros were used); and (5) access to the data and analytic pipeline or procedures (this subsection should be included when the authors are willing to share their data and code, which is now required by some journals and granting agencies and seems to be becoming the standard in the field). All of this material is provided in the context of the ultimate task (and quality control) of the data analyses section, which is to link the analyses, all of (1)–(5) above, to the specifics of the study design.
Moreover, the data analyses section, wherever it is placed, should be guided by the following principles:
Simplicity. Given two (or more) possible expressions of the same idea, the simpler is usually preferable. The reason is that a simple idea lends itself more effectively to analysis. Data-analytic paradigms should ascend from simple to complex, not the other way around. It is recommended to start with simple techniques, such as descriptive analyses, and gradually progress to more complex models. When testing a set of models, start with a simple model and increase its complexity gradually, in a controlled way, by adding variables and effects a step at a time.
Clarity. In order to abstract the messages from data and make use of them, reports should be clearly and simply written. It is important not to be wordy, but it is also important not to be vague. Many studied phenomena are represented more effectively in words than in numbers. Numbers, however, are essential for presenting results of statistical analyses. In designing data analyses, try to balance words, figures, and tables, as different analytic techniques are differentially suited to descriptive, figural, and tabular representations.
Generality. Generality, with regard to the data analyses section, means that, hopefully, the analytic paradigm followed in your article is general enough to be used not only on the original datasets, but on other datasets that are similar in form, but might be different in content.
Applicability. Applicability assumes the presence of links between research and reality. The use of data and models has become extremely pervasive in scientific culture; mathematical results have a high credibility, but the main validity criterion is in the question of where and how the results of the study can be applied in the larger world. Therefore, when thinking about data analyses, it is important to run a reality check – do your content and analytical paradigms have relevance to real-life problems?
Analytic Philosophy
The overwhelming majority of the literature in the field utilizes classical inferential statistics, also referred to as orthodox or frequentist statistics,Footnote 2 based on significance testing. Recently, however, there are calls to abandon significance testing and switch to Bayesian statistics.Footnote 3 The essence of the significance-testing approach is to yield the probability of the data given a certain hypothesis (J. Cohen, Reference Cohen1990). In this approach, there is an asymmetric relationship between the null hypothesis (H0) and the alternative hypothesis (HA): H0 can be either accepted or rejected in favor of HA, whereas HA cannot be either accepted or rejected directly; it can only be considered when H0 is rejected as the only alternative. In other words, every HA has a corresponding H0; HA takes over (i.e., wins) only when H0 is rejected and, therefore, no other hypothesis can be tested against this particular H0. When multiple hypotheses (HA(s)) are juxtaposed against the same H0, the problem of multiple comparisons arises that requires special handling (see below).
In contrast, the essence of the Bayesian approach is to estimate the probability of a hypothesis given the data (Wagenmakers, Reference 99Wagenmakers2007). The Bayesian approach allows for more than two hypotheses, and these hypotheses are not asymmetrically related to each other. Thus, unlike in frequentist statistics, where hypothesis testing is binary, that is, accept or reject, hypothesis-testing in the Bayesian approach is comparative, where the likelihoods of two (or more) hypotheses are compared to favor one or to rank them, when appropriate. Although the Bayesian approach has many virtues (Wagenmakers, Wetzels, Borsboom, & van der Maas, Reference Wagenmakers, Wetzels, Borsboom and van der Maas2011), it is far from being widely used in the field, and both reviewers and readers are not very familiar with it.
In a nutshell, the major difference between the two approaches is how they model uncertainty. The frequentist school relies on a conditional distribution of data given specific hypotheses (H0 and HA). The presumption is that H0 – the parameter specifying the conditional distribution of the data – is true; the observed data are then sampled from that distribution. The Bayesian school models uncertainty using a probability distribution over two or more hypotheses; that is, it uses probabilities for both the hypotheses and the data.
There are multiple sources, both brief and extensive, that compare and contrast these two approaches to conducting statistical analyses. Although frequentist measures (e.g., p-values and confidence intervals) continue to dominate psychological research, Bayesian measures (e.g., Bayes factor) have entered the field and their popularity is growing. Importantly, there is a growing consensus that the most effective approaches to complex problems often draw on the best insights from both approaches working in concert; there are examples when the same datasets are interrogated with multiple analytic approaches. Regardless of what is used, it is important to be very clear about one's analytic philosophy. Whatever approach is utilized, the data analyses section and any supplementary materials should be sufficiently detailed so that both reviewers and readers may understand all of the essential steps of the data analyses.
A Note on Power
Research conducted with samples with low statistical power increases the likelihood that a statistically significant finding is, in fact, a false-positive finding. Although it is well known that psychological studies, on average, tend to be underpowered, a recent study has shown just how severely underpowered they are. In this study, 3,801 recent publications in cognitive neuroscience and psychology were analyzed (Szucs & Ioannidis, Reference Szucs and Ioannidis2017), their reported effect sizes were quantified, and the corresponding power was estimated. The study demonstrated that the majority of these studies were underpowered: The median power to detect small, medium, and large effects was 12 percent, 44 percent, and 73 percent, for each of the effect sizes, respectively. It also showed that studies in cognitive neuroscience had, on average, even lower statistical power than those in psychology. Indeed, neuroimaging studies generally have low statistical power (estimated at 8 percent) due to the high cost of data collection, which results in an inflation of the number of positive results that are false (Button et al., Reference Button, Ioannidis, Mokrysz, Nosek, Flint, Robinson and Munafò2013). Yet another recent meta-analysis, conducted in the broader field of biomedical sciences, to which psychology contributes, established that approximately 50 percent of published studies have statistical power in the 0–10 percent or 11–20 percent range (Dumas-Mallet, Button, Boraud, Gonon, & Munafò, Reference Dumas-Mallet, Button, Boraud, Gonon and Munafò2017). Obviously, these estimates are well below the minimum of 80 percent that is typically considered sufficient. It has also been shown that slightly more than 50 percent of the findings reported to be significant in the analyzed studies (Szucs & Ioannidis, Reference Szucs and Ioannidis2017) were likely to be false positives, replicating similar previous findings from metascientific studies in biomedical research (Begley & Ioannidis, Reference Begley and Ioannidis2015). Appraising the statistical power of a study is very important not only for understanding the results of the data analyses, but also for projecting the study's reproducibility. The field needs to re-emphasize “the importance of well-designed studies that are run with sufficient sample sizes for drawing informative conclusions” (Patil, Peng, & Leek, Reference Patil, Peng and Leek2016, p. 540). There is a growing realization that there is a need to conduct larger studies, entailing collaboration across multiple individuals and multiple research groups (Button, Lawrence, Chambers, & Munafò, Reference Button, Lawrence, Chambers and Munafò2016). This realization might impact graduate training in psychology, where dissertations, to be adequately powered, need to be carried out within larger projects, or collaboratively, including a number of graduate students working together.
Data Preprocessing
The term “data preprocessing” is typically used to refer to the steps of data manipulation that occur after the raw data are collected and before content-driven, hypothesis-driven or exploratory analyses are performed. Note that not all types of data require data preprocessing. Typically, a dataset that has already been used in other analyses and publications does not require data preprocessing. Yet, most, if not all, “freshly” collected datasets do call for this step. Four recommendations are pertinent here.
First, there always should exist a repository where data are stored in their original form, as collected, prior to any manipulations.
Second, all steps of data preprocessing (i.e., the transformation of data from their original form into what will be analyzed) should be carefully documented and saved in a form that would allow an independent user to replicate all of the steps if the preprocessing of the raw data should need to be carried out again.
Third, some types of data (e.g., survey, questionnaire, inventory, behavioral experimental data) need only limited preprocessing (e.g., examination of distributions, selection and performance of transformations, handling outliers), whereas other types (e.g., psychophysiology, neuroimaging, genetic data) include complex steps involving decision-making. Whereas the preprocessing for survey and other such data typically takes the form of a clear description of the steps performed to prepare the data for analyses, the preprocessing for neuroimaging and other such data often results in the utilization of sophisticated data pipelines. Yet, even the preprocessing of behavioral experimental data may be only seemingly easy. For example, an examination of a small set of 30 articles published in Psychological Science featuring reaction time has exposed a range of approaches used in preprocessing these data. “Most (but not all) researchers excluded some responses for being too fast, but what constituted ‘too fast’ varied enormously: the fastest 2.5%, or faster than 2 standard deviations from the mean, or faster than 100 or 150 or 200 or 300 ms. Similarly, what constituted ‘too slow’ varied enormously: the slowest 2.5% or 10%, or 2 or 2.5 or 3 standard deviations slower than the mean, or 1.5 standard deviations slower from that condition's mean, or slower than 1,000 or 1,200 or 1,500 or 2,000 or 3,000 or 5,000 ms.” (Simmons et al., Reference Simmons, Nelson and Simonsohn2011, p. 1360). The point here is that none of these decisions is either “correct” or “incorrect,” but the lack of clear standards and specificity in the criteria for variable transformation allows room for, perhaps, self-serving justification and makes it impossible to reproduce the results of the analyses.
Fourth, an important and complex issue to consider is the issue of missing data. There is a range of approaches to handling missing data (Pampaka, Hutcheson, & Williams, Reference Pampaka, Hutcheson and Williams2016), and some of these approaches are built-in (e.g., using Full-Information Maximum Likelihood parameter estimation in MPlus), whereas others require a substantial amount of decision-making, such as the selection of the way in which missing data are imputed by the data analyst (e.g., in SPSS). Again, whatever decisions are made, they have to be justified and well documented. For example, the choice between expectation-maximization (EM), multiple imputation (MI), and direct maximum likelihood (DML) missing data imputation algorithms is not trivial (Allison, Reference Allison2001); this choice, as well as the choice of software to be selected to carry out the missing data imputation, should be done carefully, well argued, and meticulously documented. Most preprocessing steps are fairly standard and arouse little concern about biases or procedures that could affect replication. Yet, there are some techniques that might be less known; those will require more extensive referencing or even a copy of the code through a Web reference in the article or an inclusion in “Supplementary materials.”
Analytic Techniques
It is important to provide an account of what analytic techniques were used in the data analyses. If the techniques are well known (e.g., ANOVA, ANCOVA, linear regression), then just a quick mention of these techniques is sufficient. If the techniques are not well known (e.g., multiway contingency table analyses or profile analyses), they should be explained in sufficient detail. It is important to indicate whether the software used for the data analyses used standard routines from standard software (e.g., SAS or SPSS), specific toolboxes (e.g., R libraries), or custom-written code (e.g., original software written within a particular environment, such as R or SAS; it is highly recommended that custom-written code be made available to other investigators). There are advantages to standard software and toolboxes: They do not require expertise in programming, but mere conceptual understanding of the implemented technique; they are typically user friendly; they are standardized and easily documentable; they are easy to use in replications; there are examples of their usage and the interpretation of the results they generate in the literature. Yet, they are often not flexible enough to accommodate specific features of the data or particular needs in the data manipulation or analyses (e.g., SPSS does not have an option to test for interaction effects when linear regression is set up through menu-driven windows; additional steps are required to specify the interaction terms). In such cases, code is written in a hybrid mode (i.e., capitalizing on already available toolboxes, but adding code to meet the specific needs of a researcher), or is completely customized. Whether hybrid or customized, whether “beautified” (i.e., perfected to some standard accepted in the field) or simply functional (i.e., working, although not as perfect as the field standard), there is no reason not to share code (Barnes, Reference Barnes2010). There are numerous ways to share analytic code with others – through direct collaborations, via journal repositories, through websites that can be used to share code (e.g., GitHub, Google Code, figshare), and via personal or lab websites. “The code we write to analyze data is a vital part of the scientific process and, similar to data, is not only necessary to interpret and validate results but can be also used to address new research questions. Therefore, the sharing of code is as important as the sharing of data for scientific transparency and reproducibility” (Gorgolewski & Poldrack, Reference Gorgolewski and Poldrack2016, p. 5). “An article … in a scientific publication is not the scholarship itself, it is merely advertising of the scholarship. The actual scholarship is the complete software development environment and the complete set of instructions which generated the figures” (Buckheit & Donoho, Reference Buckheit, Donoho, Antoniadis and Oppenheim1995, p. 59). Moreover, articles containing usable code are known to be cited more often than their counterparts without the code (Vandewalle, Reference Vandewalle2012).
Like any good habit, quality analytic techniques require ongoing practice and commitment to exercise. Below are some recommendations that are routinely found to be helpful in producing a publishable, replicable, and citable data analyses section.
Practice what you preach. One of the fundamental principles of self-discipline is to not do what you know is not good for you. So, the first rule for doing data analyses is to promise yourself to follow best practices in the field and catch and correct yourself every time a deviation from best practices occurs.
Exercise on a regular basis. As with any skill, the skill of data analyses needs to be practiced. Most data-analytic tricks are learned and internalized not through reading about them, but through doing them. There is nothing sacred or mysterious about data analyses. Nobody possessed this aptitude at birth; it has to be learned and it is acquired through repeated practice.
Stay current. The data-analytic arm of psychology, often referred to as quantitative psychology, is a dynamic, rapidly developing field. Yet, psychologists may consult numerous data-analytic methodologists and use techniques developed in other fields and in the emerging field of data sciences. Most graduate courses in psychology, however, are focused on “traditional” techniques, mostly linear modeling, framed by frequentist statistics. So, to stay current, one needs to self-educate, primarily by reading journals in and outside psychology, and by attending different specialized courses and workshops. The quest does not end with getting through one's graduate school stats requirements; it only begins there!
Find your crowd. This is an amazing time of shared resources and common audiences. Find your expert group on the Net, connect with them, ask questions, offer your own experiences, listen, and learn. There are no stupid questions, especially about data analyses. And they are always better asked before one's article is published, not when someone cannot replicate its analyses.
Data Concealment (or Not)
There are also calls for authors to submit their manuscript together with their data (Mummendey, Reference Mummendey2012). In fact, data sharing has been mandated by some grant funding agencies, as well as journals. It is requested that data are submitted to a repository (field, agency, journal, laboratory) before the relevant paper is submitted. Placement of data in a repository allows the author to point the reviewers and readers to the location of the data in the manuscript. If done in this way, it is thought that the manuscript may benefit from increased transparency due to openly shared data, and the data itself can become a resource enabling additional future research (Gorgolewski & Poldrack, Reference Gorgolewski and Poldrack2016). There is even a new movement for so-called “data papers,” which are articles dedicated to descriptions of complex datasets (Gorgolewski, Margulies, & Milham, Reference Gorgolewski, Margulies and Milham2013). There are journals (e.g., Scientific Data, Gigascience, Data in Brief, F1000Research, Neuroinformatics, and Frontiers in Neuroscience) known to accept such data papers (Gorgolewski & Poldrack, Reference Gorgolewski and Poldrack2016). It has been observed that readiness to openly share data is associated with fewer statistical errors in analysis (Wicherts, Bakker, & Molenaar, Reference Wicherts, Bakker and Molenaar2011) and increased citations (Piwowar, Day, & Fridsma, Reference Piwowar, Day and Fridsma2007).
Overtly unethical research practices such as “p-hacking”Footnote 4 (Forstmeier, Wagenmakers, & Parker, Reference Forstmeier, Wagenmakers and Parker2017) or “HARKing,” hypothesizing after the results are knownFootnote 5 (Kerr, Reference Kerr1998), should be explicitly avoided. If one uses conventional frequentist statistics, it is important to find a way to present the p-values associated with the performed analyses to the fullest degree possible. Of course only those p-values that are meaningful and relevant to the highlights of the findings should make it into the text. Yet, exact (and all) p-values might be important for subsequent meta-analyses, if anybody ever wants to perform them; therefore, it is important, depending on the number of p-values generated for a particular analysis, to include them in a table in a publication, in a supplementary table, or via a link to a supplementary file, which most journals now gladly store and make available in their electronic resources via links in the publication. It is important to acknowledge the number of tests conducted, to demonstrate the author's awareness of the issues related to multiple testing, and to justify the threshold value chosen to indicate statistical significance. Statistical significance is directly related to Type I error, occurring when a researcher falsely concludes that an observed difference is “real,” when it is in fact not real (e.g., HA is favored over H0 unjustifiably). Typically, the α level or Type I error rate is set at .05 (i.e., p < .05); this means that the researcher is willing to commit a Type I error 5 percent of the time. This simple testing framework, however, is no longer sufficient when the research deals with multiple (rather than single) comparisons. There are multiple situations that may generate a multiple-comparison problem (Coppock, Reference 97Coppock2015). There are: (1) experiments that include multiple groups, in which there are a(a –1)/2 pairwise comparisons, where a is the number of groups in the study, and an arbitrary number of possible complex comparisons involving more than 2 groups; (2) treatment studies that differentiate treatment effects for multiple groups, for example men and women; (3) correlational and causational studies with multiple distinct outcomes or multiple operationalizations of a single outcome variable; and (4) studies in which multiple estimators (e.g., difference-in-means and covariate adjustments) are applied to the same dataset. In general, a single global statistical test is preferred to repeated pairwise testing. If a global test is significant, various univariate tests are in order. When a posteriori multiple tests are performed, correctional analytical procedures for multiple comparisons are recommended (McDonald, Reference McDonald2014), but the selection of the appropriate procedures should be thoughtful. The two most popular types of adjustments are the Family-Wise Error Rate (FWER) and the False Discovery Rate (FDR). The FWER is the probability of incorrectly rejecting even one (of the n tested) null hypothesis. If α is set at .05, the chance of rejecting at least one of the n tested null hypotheses is 1 – (1 – .05)n (for n independent tests); that is, given 2 independent hypotheses, the chance of rejecting at least one of them is 9.75 percent, for 3, it is 14.25 percent, for 4, 18.55 percent, for 5, 22.62 percent, and for 10, 40.12 percent, meaning that, without p-value adjustments, a Type I error will be committed about 40 percent of the time. There are multiple ways to control the FWER correction, both mathematically (e.g., the Bonferroni, Holm, Tukey, and Scheffé corrections) and by means of simulations. The FDR is the expected proportion of false discoveries among all discoveries. In general, FDR is considered to be less conservative in that it affords better power for detecting differences that do exist while still controlling the number of falsely rejected true null hypotheses; there are also multiple ways to control for FDR (e.g., the Benjamini and Hochberg, Simes, and Hochberg's step-up procedures). Whatever is done, it is important to reveal it to the reader, so the reader can appraise the likelihood of replicating the published result and be conscientious about designing the details of the replication study, adequately powering it, and knowing all the caveats there are to know while analyzing the data.
Finally, to aid an appraisal of the relevance and magnitude of results deemed statistically significant, the inclusion of effect sizes (i.e., quantitative indicators of the strength of an association) can be expressed in several ways (Nakagawa & Cuthill, Reference Nakagawa and Cuthill2007),Footnote 6 depending on the statistical tests used, with confidence intervals on the effect size estimates being critically important. Confidence intervals are indicators of how much trust one can put in the results. They are reflective of the interplay of two factors: the precision of the measurement and the variability of the population being studied. The inclusion of effect sizes and confidence intervals is now expected by a number of journals, which takes the field away from the binary notion of statistical significance (yes or no) and toward the discussion of the strength of effects.
Conclusion
The emergence of metascience has generated explicit expectations of how research should be conducted and reported on today; these expectations apply to the conduct and reporting of data analyses as well. The hope is that if the recommendations of metascience are followed, the degree of reproducibility of original findings in psychology will increase (Schooler, Reference Schooler2014). Data analyses include a number of steps between the collecting of data and the generating of input for the results section. Metascience advances the expectation that all of these steps (as well as the entire research process) should be open to scrutiny. The current discussion is not about whether research data and data-related code should be shared, but rather how to make such sharing a common feature of research culture (Anonymous, 2014). This means documenting every step and sharing, if not required by a funding agency or a journal, upon first demand from the field the relevant data and code. This is the new standard of the field, although still far from common. A recent analysis of 441 articles published between 2000 and 2014 identified only one that was fully reproducible (Iqbal, Wallach, Khoury, Schully, & Ioannidis, Reference Iqbal, Wallach, Khoury, Schully and Ioannidis2016). If reproducibility is the new standard, then the field should be expected to make data and the code that generated the analyses fully available in an organized and protected (e.g., by licenses) way (Gorgolewski & Poldrack, Reference Gorgolewski and Poldrack2016). To ensure reproducibility, a number of journals, for example Nature Neuroscience (Anonymous, Reference Anonymous2013), now require authors to use checklists prior to manuscript submission, and there is increasing pressure from the community to make such practices common (Maynard & Munafò, Reference Maynard and Munafò2013). The modern way of practicing science is to open every step of its practice to the community. In doing so, the field will not only reshape itself by introducing safeguards against the penetration of poorly conducted science into the public domain through publication; it will also promote good decision-making and wide consultation within the scientific community at large through its publicly available resources. This is a new challenge for both established and junior scientists, but it is well supported not only philosophically, but also by the ready availability of tools and advice. Now the task is to address this challenge so that it becomes routine.
Many psychologists and others writing in the behavioral and brain sciences believe the results section is the driest part of any journal article, that the idea in this portion of the manuscript is simply to present the data and move on. For students reading journal articles as class assignments, the results section is often the one skipped. It is considered boring at best, inscrutable at worst, and whatever one needs to know is summarized in the opening paragraphs of the discussion anyway. It does not have to be this way! In this chapter, I argue that there are techniques for writing a results section that at least make it readable, if not thrilling.
The key is to tell a good story. The idea that mental representations are organized as stories is quite popular. Jefferson Singer and I argued that the self is a story – that who we are really is a set of stories that we tell about ourselves (Singer & Salovey, Reference Singer and Salovey1993). The editor of this volume, Robert Sternberg (Reference Sternberg1998), has described love as a story. Sternberg maintains that there are various kinds of romantic scripts guiding our conception of how relationships unfold. Leadership and politics, too, rely on story-telling (Orr & Bennett, Reference Orr and Bennett2017; Salmon, Reference Salmon2017). Robert Abelson (Reference Abelson1995) described the way in which investigators make claims with statistical tests as a “principled argument,” that is, a kind of story. Perhaps the boldest idea comes from one of the fathers of artificial intelligence, Roger Schank (Reference 111Schank1990), who claimed that all of cognition is, essentially, a story. Well, if the self, love, statistics, and all of cognition are organized as stories, certainly the idea that a results section can be a story should not strike you as too radical.
In this chapter, I provide some rules to help you craft a results section as a good story – an accurate story, a story that does not mislead, and a story that covers the details completely and not selectively, but a story nonetheless. These rules are not meant to be followed obediently, but more often than not they help to increase the readability of your manuscript. I believe strongly that every writer needs to find his or her own voice and style, and so rules like these are more like advice from a friendly aunt or uncle rather than laws passed by the state legislature. And, as my father said, “Advice is a gift. Accept it graciously, but then do what you want with it after the gift-giver is gone.” This chapter does not repeat valuable information that you can find in the Publication manual of the American Psychological Association (2010) nor does it provide a primer on psychological statistics or the proper reporting of statistical tests. I am going to assume you already know all that and that you have a copy of the Publication manual on your desk. Instead, the focus in this chapter is on the results section as whole, and how to make this segment of your article more exciting.
Begin with What Is Most Important
The best organizational strategy for a manuscript reporting an experiment or set of experiments is usually not the order in which the investigator conducted the data analysis. Too often, results sections have the feel of a data analysis archive – a listing of every statistical procedure to which the data were subjected in the order in which the investigator entered them into the computer. It is a much better strategy to dispense with preliminary analyses as quickly as possible and get to the central findings. Peripheral analyses can be reported later. The most effective articles first present findings indicating that the study was properly conducted – manipulation checks for an experiment, for example – but then move quickly to the main event.
Much of my research explores how to maximize the persuasiveness of messages promoting a health behavior such as obtaining a mammogram or applying sunscreen. In a typical study, my team goes to a public beach and distributes different kinds of brochures. After sunbathers have read the brochures, a short questionnaire assessing attitudes toward sunscreen is handed out. Finally, coupons are dispensed that can be cashed in for actual bottles of sunscreen later in the day (e.g., Detweiler, Bedell, Salovey, Pronin, & Rothman, Reference Detweiler, Bedell, Salovey, Pronin and Rothman1999).
The most important potential finding in a study like this one is if different brochures actually influenced whether sunbathers obtained a bottle of sunscreen. The impact of the brochures on attitudes is interesting too, but not nearly as important as whether we observed actual behavior change. As such, it is probably a better strategy in the results section of an article reporting these findings to present the influence of the brochures on coupon redemption for sunscreen samples prior to the attitudinal data. The reader should not have to read the entire results section to know whether – bottom line – the experiment worked. If the most important question is, “So, did different brochures encourage people actually to use sunscreen?”, then the answer should be provided as early in the results section as possible.
Keep the Order of Presentation Parallel to Other Sections of the Article
While we are on the topic of the order of presenting findings, it is also generally a good idea to try to keep the order of your results section consistent with that of the introduction and method sections. So in the example above, if I plan to discuss the influence of different kinds of brochure content on actual sunscreen acquisition before I discuss its influence on attitudes toward skin cancer and sun-blocking products, my introduction and method sections should also present relevant material in the same order. In the introduction, the literature describing sunscreen use should be presented before the literature on attitudes. My hypotheses about actual behavior should be delineated before the hypotheses concerning attitudes. Likewise, in the method section, it would be preferable to describe the operationalization of sunscreen use (i.e., coupons redeemed) before the operationalization of relevant attitudes (i.e., seven-point Likert scales).
Provide Top-Down Structure
You have all read results sections, I'm sure, in which the author simply lists finding after finding, in no apparent order, with no reference to the goals of the experiment or the conclusions that should be drawn. I know that I've read many such results sections in, alas, the first drafts of doctoral dissertations. This style reflects a mistaken belief that somehow, in the results section, the investigator is just supposed to lay out the facts without editorial comment. Interpretation is saved for the discussion. This approach leads to very dry results sections and poorly integrated manuscripts.
A better approach when presenting each finding is to remind the reader why those data are proffered and then to reflect on the relationship between the reported data and the original hypotheses described, one hopes, in the introduction. So, for example, let's imagine a journal article reporting a study of the effects of mood on the recall of childhood memories. In this experiment, happy or sad moods were induced in a group of participants, who then described the first memory about their childhood that came to mind. So, a participant watched either a pleasant or unpleasant film and was then asked to recall a childhood memory. Then, the participant rated the memory on various scales. At the end of the session, the participant completed a set of mood scales as a manipulation check to make sure that the moods induced by the films lasted for the entire experimental session.
Assume that we are writing the part of the results section having to do with the manipulation check. Although it is certainly straightforward and clear to write “Participants assigned to the happy condition reported more positive moods (M = 30.04) than those assigned to the sad condition (M = 10.04), F(1, 99) = 4.60, p < .05,” it is probably better to remind the reader why you are reporting these findings and what should be concluded on the basis of them:
In order to verify that the moods induced by the films lasted for the entire experimental session, participants completed a mood scale before leaving the laboratory. Participants who watched the pleasant film reported more positive moods (M = 30.04) than those who watched the unpleasant film (M = 10.04), F(1, 99) = 4.60, p < .05. These differences suggest that the moods were properly induced and that they were strong enough to be felt 20 minutes later.
Although this version is a bit longer, it reminds the reader why the data were collected, and it tells the reader what to conclude on the basis of these findings. As Daryl Bem, says, “by announcing each result clearly in prose before wading into the numbers and statistics, and by summarizing frequently, you permit a reader to decide just how much detail he or she wants to pursue at each juncture and to skip ahead to the next main point whenever that seems desirable” (Bem, Reference Bem, Zanna and Darley1987, p. 185).
Don't Let the Structure of the Statistical Test Determine the Structure of Your Prose
A frequently used strategy for writing a results section is to arrange the output from your favorite statistical software package (e.g., SPSS) on your desk or tablet and then to write your prose while staring at them. This approach can lead to sentences that bear more of a resemblance to the textbook from your Introduction to Analysis of Variance course than to an article that you hope someone actually might read. Once again the theme of this chapter, “tell a story,” is your guide. And the output of an ANOVA is rarely a good story.
Consider the following example of what I call statistics-based prose:
A two-way, 2 × 2 between-subjects ANOVA was performed on ratings of the vividness of childhood memories in which the independent variables were participant sex (male or female) and induced mood (happy or sad). There was no main effect for sex (F(1, 99) = 0.20, n.s.), but there was a main effect for mood (F(1, 99) = 7.89, p < .01) and a sex by mood interaction (F(1, 99) = 12.30, p < .01). Happy people had more vivid memories than sad people, overall. This effect was stronger for women than it was for men. As can be seen in the results from Tukey's studentized range test reported in Table 1, the vividness of happy and sad female participants’ memories differed significantly, but the vividness of happy and sad male participants’ memories did not.
Notice how in this passage we have no idea what was actually discovered until the very end, and we are still not really sure of the direction of the reported effects. By focusing on the terms in the ANOVA output, the author has communicated very little about what really went on in this experiment. There is also a tendency for statistics-based prose to be written in a passive voice.
Compare the previous passage to the following:
Table 1 provides the vividness ratings for men and women who experienced happy or sad moods. The childhood memories of men and women did not differ in vividness, F(1, 99) = 0.20, n.s. The most striking finding, however, was that the usual tendency for happy people to report more vivid memories than people in sad moods, F(1, 99) = 7.89, p < .01, was stronger for women than men, as indicated by a significant sex by mood interaction, F(1, 99) = 12.30, p < .01. This finding is consistent with the hypothesis that mood has a more pronounced effect on the quality of childhood memories among women than men and was confirmed with the Tukey's studentized range test reported in Table 1.
Notice how in this rewriting of the same passage, the story (not just the childhood memories of happy women) is more vivid. By side-stepping the language of analysis of variance (for the most part) and, instead, reporting what happened, the reader has a clearer sense of the empirical bottom line.
There are a few other things to note about the second passage. First, the author refers to a table where the cell means can be located (along with a measure of dispersion around each mean, such as the standard deviation). Perhaps even the ANOVA F-statistics and p-values could be moved to that table too, which could also contain an effect-size estimate, uncluttering the text further. Second, it is always good form to present descriptive statistics (e.g., cell means and standard deviations) before inferential statistics (F, t, chi-square, etc.). In other words, describe the findings – in terms with which the reader is familiar – before testing whether the trend is statistically significant or not. When presented the other way around, it is as if the author cares more about p-values meeting some criterion than the more general pattern in the data, and the results section can convey the impression of a fishing expedition rather than hypothesis-driven science.
Justify the Selection of Statistical Procedures and Tests
Often it is obvious how best to analyze your data. In the example of the experiment concerning mood and childhood memory, it seems fairly obvious that cell means will be reported by mood condition and perhaps sex, followed by some kind of analysis of variance. But sometimes one has a choice of which statistical methods to use, and it is often helpful to provide the reader with a brief justification for your selection.
Consider, once again, our work on how different kinds of persuasive brochures affect the use of sunscreen by beach-goers. Assume, for now, that we are comparing two kinds of brochures, one that describes the benefits of sunscreen use and one that describes the costs of failing to use sunscreen (see Rothman & Salovey, Reference Rothman and Salovey1997, for a discussion concerning which of these kinds of brochures should be more persuasive). To examine the differential influence of these brochures on participants’ redemption of coupons for free bottles of sunscreen, we would likely report the percentage of participants who turned in coupons by brochure condition. But we could test the significance of the difference between these percentages in a number of ways, for example using logistic regression, log-linear model fitting, or analysis of variance with arc-sine transformation. In selecting an approach, it is often helpful to tell the reader why you made the particular choice. For example:
Because sunscreen use was measured as a dichotomous, categorical variable and we wanted to determine the odds of coupon redemption among participants who read the first brochure as compared to those who read the second brochure, we analyzed the data using logistic regression.
Investigators often reduce the number of dependent variables under consideration using principal components or factor analysis. Once again, it is helpful to indicate to readers why a particular method was selected, such as principal axis or maximum likelihood, and why the factors were left unrotated or rotated according to some criterion, like varimax or promax. What assumptions were made about the data that justified the factor extraction method and rotation? Often investigators seem to select such methods by default – such as a varimax rotation – without much forethought. Similarly, the investigator should rationalize how he or she selected a certain number of factors to describe. Often “eigenvalues greater than one” is used as the criterion when other standards, such as interpretability or an elbow in a scree plot, may be more sensible.
The point is that the selection of statistical procedures should be guided by the assumptions the investigator is making about the data, and these assumptions should be made explicit to readers. Too often, the default procedures in statistical packages drive the tests reported. Early in a good results section (and sometimes at various transition points later on), the author furnishes for the reader a description of the general approach to analyzing the data, assumptions made along the way, citations to nonstandard procedures, and justification for the selection of procedures from among an array of options.
Thorough Reporting Is Good Form
Earlier, I discussed why it is good practice to provide readers with a description of what was discovered (e.g., cell means) before turning to inferential statistics, such as analyses of variance. There are similar rules of thumb that apply to other statistical procedures. I would not characterize these as hard-and-fast rules – there are many times when it is reasonable to make exceptions – but in general it is good practice to follow them.
For one, when analyses are sensitive to the correlations among your variables, a table of these correlations should be provided. For example, often investigators report multiple regression analyses in which the influence of a set of “predictors” on a “criterion” is examined. Let us say we are studying what kinds of intelligence are associated with scores on the Graduate Record Examination – Psychology Subject Test. Several hundred participants have been given an analytic intelligence test, a practical intelligence test, and an emotional intelligence test. We know that there is likely to be some overlap among the scores on these intelligence tests, and so we regress the participants’ GRE–Psychology scores on to the three intelligence test scores and discover that the best “predictor” of GRE–Psychology scores is analytic intelligence. Now it is entirely possible that the correlations among the three intelligence tests are quite high, so that entering one of them in a regression model suppresses the influence of the other two. But if the zero-order correlations among the four constructs measured in this study are not presented prior to the multiple regression model, we cannot evaluate this alternative interpretation of the findings. So, as a general rule, a table of correlations should precede the reporting of regression analyses involving the same variables. Similarly, it is good form to report the internal consistency and/or the reliability of these kinds of measures before reporting the regression. A variable may look like an especially good “predictor” simply because it is the most reliably measured variable in the regression model. Remember the rule you learned in your statistics course: reliability limits validity.
A second example concerns the reporting of some measure of dispersion, usually standard deviation, before describing analyses, such as ANOVA, that are sensitive to the variance among measures. Generally, the table in which cell means are listed should also include standard deviations, so that the reader can eyeball the table and come up with pretty good effect size estimates before even looking to see if the ANOVA produced statistically significant results. The reader might also be interested in whether there is homogeneity of variance across measures and/or whether distributions of scores are more or less normal, all assumptions of general linear models that are often honored in the breach. Even if cell means are diagrammed in figures rather than reported in tables, it is generally considered good practice to provide a sense of the distribution around these means using error bars based on standard errors or standard deviations.
In the time that has passed since the previous edition of this book, it has become common practice to add an explicit estimate of effect size to the usual reporting of statistical tests. To save space, I have not done so in the examples provided here, but, generally, you should provide information that allows the reader to assess not just the statistical significance of an effect, but also the size of that effect. You can do this in a number of ways, such as providing 95 percent confidence intervals around a difference (of means, for example) expressed in the actual unit of measurement or, as is more typical for findings in psychology, in a standardized estimate such as Cohen's d. Standardized regression weights (betas) are already effect sizes, so when reporting the results of multiple regression analyses you can report unstandardized bs with confidence intervals or, better still, standardized betas, which can be compared directly with each other. The Publication manual of the American Psychological Association recommends reading Grissom and Kim (Reference Grissom and Kim2005) for a discussion of effect size estimates, and I do too.
A Few Other Odds and Ends
Finally, I will mention a few other rules of thumb for writing good results sections. These are not hard-and-fast rules, but they will improve the clarity and impact of any article. Following them may also convey a sophistication about what you are doing with your data. The first set of tips concerns strategies for structuring the manuscript as a whole; the second set is focused more on the reporting of specific statistics.
Here are some tips concerning the organization of the manuscript:
1 In order to get to your main findings as quickly as possible, consider placing many of the preliminaries in the method section, such as the demographic breakdown of the sample, evidence that the participants were randomized to experimental conditions properly, and a sense that the cover story was believable and the measures reliable.
2 Put as much in tables and figures as possible. Although some editors may later ask you to move material in tables and figures back to the text in order to save space in the printed journal, results sections are usually more readable to the extent that numbers are removed from the text itself. Always refer explicitly to these tables and figures. It is not sufficient to note parenthetically at the end of a sentence “(see Table 1).” Rather, tell your readers what it is they can find in Table 1. For example: “Table 1 lists the means and standard deviations for all of the memory measures administered in this experiment. Comparing the first and second columns of Table 1 reveals that for four of the five variables, the quality and quantity of childhood memories, differed for happy as compared to sad individuals.”
3 Do not confuse redundancy with clarity. If means can be found in a table, do not repeat them in the text itself or vice versa. You don't need both a figure and a table illustrating the same finding.
4 Finally, consider a combined results and discussion section if your manuscript is relatively short or if the results are sufficiently complex that detailed explanations along the way would render them more intelligible.
Here are some tips about the reporting of actual statistics:
1 When reporting inferential statistics, provide complete information: the name of the test, the degrees of freedom or sample size, the value of the test statistic, and whether it met the criterion you have set for statistical significance (Sternberg & Sternberg, Reference Sternberg and Sternberg2016).
2 Don't make a fetish out of p-values. Generally, set an alpha level or two in advance, such as p < .05 and p < .01, and report whether a finding meets that criterion. It usually is not necessary to report exact levels of p. Moreover, reporting exact p-values conveys the impression that you think lower numbers mean larger effect sizes, when this may not be the case (e.g., if the sample sizes included in the test vary).
3 Don't feel obligated to report in detail every statistical approach that you tried. For example, if you analyzed the data using several different transformations (e.g., log, reciprocal, square-root) and the analyses always produced essentially the same findings, feel free to tell the reader in a sentence or two (or even in a footnote) rather than present the same findings in different form over and over again. The same rule holds when you try different factor extraction methods and rotations in a factor analysis, or different hierarchical approaches in a regression model.
4 Always try to describe your findings in the units actually measured, no matter how the data were analyzed. “Participants who first read positive words were 230 msec faster in responding to the target photograph than participants who first read negative words” is better than “Participants who first read positive words had faster reaction times (mean log RT = 2.27) to the photograph than participants who first read negative words (mean log RT = 3.89), F(1, 38) = 6.21, p < .05.”
5 When statistical tests produce results that are not quite statistically significant, it is not necessary to qualify these findings with great barrages of defensive rhetoric, such as the results were “marginally significant,” “did not reach conventional levels of significance,” “just missed significance,” “trended in the right direction,” and so on. Rather, just state the claim, statistic, and p-value straightforwardly: “men smiled less often than women, F(1, 203) = 3.70, p < .06.” The readers of your journal article can see that you “just missed” and can decide for themselves whether this shakes their confidence in your conclusions. At the same time, one should be especially careful to avoid overstatement in these situations (cf. Abelson, Reference Abelson1995, especially chapter 4). Of course, some journal editors and reviewers feel that you are trying to slip something past them if you don't qualify a “nonsignificant” finding with some kind of adjective. If you believe this to be the case, then do it succinctly, such as by adding the word “somewhat” after “men smiled” in the example above, and move on without a lot of hemming and hawing.
The Bottom Line
I hope that I have persuaded you that the best results section is written as a story. And like any good story, the author needs to establish a cast of characters and a setting, justify these selections, and then take the reader through the drama of steadily rising action, climax, and denouement. A good story is rarely a chronological rendition of every idea that occurred to the investigator as he or she stared at the data. Nevertheless, it is a story that is completely (rather than selectively) told. Although the writing of the results section (indeed, the article as a whole) may deviate from the story that the investigator may have planned prior to actually conducting the study, the results section of your journal article must allow another investigator to replicate what you have done, and it cannot reflect “p-hacking,” subjecting the data to a barrage of statistical tests (even while still conducting the experiment) and reporting only those findings that are significant (or, worse, ending data collection when a peek at the findings reveals significance). Tell an accurate and good story, and let the drama of that story reveal itself through your results. If you do so with the highest ethical standards and respect for the scientists and others who will be influenced by your findings, your article – or, at least, your results section – will stand the test of time.
Scientists love writing discussion sections. Readers love the first two paragraphs. Both have their reasons, as this chapter explains.
Researchers love the discussion because (a) it's near the end, which signals they are almost done with the manuscript – this draft, anyway; (b) they get to rescue the main results from the jungle of statistics and the bog of trivial results; (c) they can say what they want; and (d) the discussion almost writes itself.
Readers love discussions because they reveal the end of the story. Several of the preceding chapters urge researchers to tell a good narrative – or at least to make an argument – because then the article goes somewhere. The story arc, from problem to struggle to resolution, essentially represents the introduction, the methods, and the results. Now all that's needed from the discussion is the party scene. Besides reason (a), signaling the end of the process (until the next instalment), the authors get to give speeches about why they wanted to do this research in the first place (reasons b & c). Creativity is allowed, as long as the data have established the writer's credibility.
Finally, reason (d) for liking this section: I always tell my students that discussions write themselves. Once all the results are known, and the story arc bends downward, a satisfying coda often follows this formula:
summary (what we know now)
limitations (to be sure …)
future directions (mopping up)
implications (stay tuned)
conclusion (onward!)
To reassure those concerned that this is merely Fiske's formula, these discussion subsections meet the APA Publication manual (2010) stipulations, which are surprisingly brief:
support or nonsupport for the original hypothesis (summary)
links to other work (implications)
speculation (future directions)
As converging support for some version of these subsections, the author of this chapter in Sternberg's first edition (Calfee, Reference 119Calfee and Sternberg2000) also recommends an overview of hypotheses and evidence (summary), and uses these points to make an argument:
claim (“begins with a problem, connects it with one or more theoretical perspectives, explores the consequences of each”)
evidence (“builds an ‘island,’ a small and delimited territory within which the theories can be put to a modest test”)
warrant (explains author's own reasoning and alternatives)
These elements of the overall argument appear as a précis in the discussion.
Consider each subsection in turn as an element in ending, whether story or argument. Both terms apply, as prior chapters illustrate, but neither is perfect. In some senses, a journal article is a story (problem, struggle, resolution), and readers get engaged with stories that build suspense. (Will the hypothesis survive? How will the authors test it? What will participants do?) Vivid details of the procedure put the reader into another lab's world. The discussion resolves the dramatic tension. But a journal article is not a personal story. Novices sometimes insert themselves too much into the narrative; they must learn to avoid personal anecdote, blind alleys, emotional expression, and self-reference. The author is not the hero of the story; the hypothesis is. In this view, the discussion is the satisfying denouement that ties up all the loose threads.
In some senses, a journal article is also a persuasive communication. At first, the researcher is a detective gathering evidence and then a lawyer making a principled argument (Abelson, Reference Abelson1995). The argument must follow the rules of evidence in science, being an honest broker for the findings, transparent about methods and analyses, and open about limitations. And the article can take a stand and marshal the most convincing evidence available. The discussion is the lawyer-scientist's concluding statement.
Summary: What Do We Know Now that We Did Not Know Before?
Your paper has jumped through all the hoops, proving itself to have theoretical grounding in the introduction, design acuity in the methods, and appropriate analyses in the results section. Now you have earned the right to frame the findings, to make a coherent explanation for the most salient discoveries, most reliable patterns, and central contributions.
Readers love the discussion's first couple of paragraphs because in a pinch they can cut to the chase, to read the authors’ favorite framing of their results. If convinced and intrigued, then the reader may go back to scrutinize the methods and results in more detail.
This is not to say that the summary should repeat the abstract, which can devote only a sentence or two to the findings. Rather, consider the discussion's summary to be a recap; the reader has already seen the material but needs to be reminded about what is most significant for the overall story: Like a video series that begins each episode “Previously …,” the summary provides highlights for the audience to retain moving forward.
The discussion structures the prior material so that the reader understands the paper's contribution. Viewing it as an argument's logic or as a story's denouement differs in emphasizing tight reasoning versus human suspense resolution. Both matter, and what they share is guiding structure. If the author cannot articulate the research's central points, the reader certainly will not. This is the time to show off the strengths of the data. Do not under-sell your findings. Be bold!
A credible summary does not over-claim, however, which merely invites reader skepticism at best, or attack at worst. An author being grandiose raises red flags, and no one needs to make readers suspicious. As an editor, I have seen authors report one new paradigm and then claim that this one study shows that “Humans do X.” Without a more programmatic approach, replication, converging methods, and varied samples, no one has any business making claims about human nature.
Nor should the summary be self-promoting and gloss over difficulties. Excessive subject selection in the methods section is still an issue in the discussion. A marginal finding in the results section is still qualified support in the discussion.
But making a principled argument for the reliable pattern is appropriate. Marshal all the evidence for a robust effect that persists across types of participants, operationalizations, measures, and alternative analyses. A mini-meta-analysis across several studies testing the same hypothesis may help readers to judge the most reliable pattern, the effect's size, and the finding's stability.
In short, the bottom line of the summary subsection is whether you would bet confidently on this new knowledge. If its authors do not believe in it, no one else will. Speaking of bets, this author is willing to bet that starting the discussion with a summary paragraph, or several, is common practice.
Limitations (to Be Sure …)
Here, modesty is in order. Admittedly, no data are perfect, so the limitations subsection anticipates the critics, acknowledges likely objections, and neutralizes them if possible. Even if the flaws cannot be fully counter-argued, merely by identifying the paper's shortcomings the author eliminates them as “gotcha!” targets. No one will read a letter-to-the-editor or a blog-post that simply repeats a concern already admitted by the authors.
Part of you may wish that if you do not point out the problems, readers will not notice them. Do not count on it. The journal-club game of kill-the-author has morphed into online forums, becoming at once faster, more widespread, and more competitive. The downside consequences of ignoring problems, in the hope that they will go away, are too damaging. They will come out. The best defense is being one step ahead, granting the limitations and defanging them where possible.
Make no mistake: This is difficult. Anticipating the critics is challenging because taking a negative perspective on the self and its hard-won achievements is unnatural. A self-respecting or at least self-sympathetic researcher may have produced data only its parent can love. Few people spontaneously recognize their own defects, and these positive illusions may be adaptive (Taylor, Reference Taylor1989), at least in Western settings. Nevertheless, train yourself to listen to the still, small voice of doubt and harness it. Do not let it paralyze you, but use its dire messages to convey limitations others might voice. It may help to imagine what specific advisors, peers, or competitors might say. Then, address them constructively.
While training a useful inner critic, an author can already draw on some of the most common limitations, besides uneven data. A frequent issue is having narrow, WEIRD samples – Western, educated, independent, rich, and democratic (Henrich, Heine, & Norenzayan, Reference Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan2010). Admitting that the sample were all small-college sophomores is not enough; say how the results might differ, and why, in other age-groups, classes, or cultures. A limitation can turn into a hypothesis about moderating conditions.
Another common limitation is restricted operationalization of the independent variables, dependent variables, or stimuli. Besides accounting for randomness, systematic factors limit any operational choices; this subsection should acknowledge both. Again, if the limits are conceptually interesting, venturing hypotheses about potential moderators advances science. The crucial limitations subsection usually should have its own heading.
In this chapter, the advice is limited by drawing on the experience of one senior social psychologist. Granted, the author has edited for several journals, and only some have been empirical (Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, PNAS, Science), but she has extensive reviewing experience for other empirical journals. And editing review/theory journals (Annual Review of Psychology, Psychological Review, Policy Insights from Behavioral and Brain Sciences) sometimes entails reading discussion sections of other kinds – not to mention writing her own and editing her collaborators’ discussion sections. Nevertheless, this chapter is limited to one author's perspective, supplemented by some of the relevant literature.
Future Directions (Mopping Up)
Limitations lead directly to future research. Gaps in the present work can be filled down the road. This subsection might seem to represent the clean-up crew, mopping up the mess left by the shattering limitations. A more elevated view is that this section resuscitates the paper's main findings, after their trauma of self-criticism.
Whatever else the discussion says here, avoid the generic clarion call: “More research is needed.” Of course. Always true. But what specific next steps follow in this research program to fill its distinctive gaps? Discovery in psychological science often entails identifiable stages: demonstrate an effect, show how it differs from past research, rule out alternative explanations, check its robustness over varied operationalizations, test its generalizability across samples and settings, and identify theory-driven moderators.
Each of these stages could provide a future direction, depending on the maturity of the current research program. This subsection should compose not a long to-do list, but instead the next stage appropriate to the current stage of development for this particular research program.
Done right, the future directions subsection can be exciting, tantalizing the reader to see what the author's lab will do next. Granted, going public with your plans can lead to being scooped, but this happens less often than people think. And one reframing is that the scooper's flattering interest shows your work having impact, and their work saves you the trouble of doing the study yourself.
Future editions of this chapter could content-analyze discussion sections in high- and low-impact empirical journals, written by authors at various career stages and degrees of eminence. Natural-language analyses might reveal what content predicts citation counts, for example. Mentions of synonyms for limitations, shortcomings, and flaws might predict higher citations – modesty might reflect an initial breakthrough, perhaps. Other content analyses might check whether this chapter's advice correlates with norms, describing what authors actually do.
Implications (Stay Tuned)
The discussion builds out from specific (summarize this research) to slightly more general (acknowledge its limitations) to hypothetical (future directions). The implications subsection can be openly speculative, although moored in the reality of evidence and the bounds of plausibility.
Conceptual implications can support or undermine existing theory, anywhere from confirming or contradicting its premises to proposing mechanisms to identifying moderator variables.
Methodological implications can supply a new method, manipulation, or measure.
Policy implications can suggest evidence-based interventions. One study does not make a policy, of course, but it can imply directions for future policy-related tests. In psychology, a research program often has implications for education, well-being, health habits, physical health, social justice, organizations, or marketing.
Ideally, one implication of this chapter, combined with the rest of the volume, would be that using it teaches first-year graduate students how to write effective articles for psychology journals.
A Note on Style
Sometimes a discussion requires a special comment that does not fit the summary–limits–implications–future framework, and this chapter illustrates this point with this note about writing style.
Good scientific writing does not call attention to itself. Instead, it uses few words, straightforward language, plain vocabulary, and simple sentences; it just highlights the science.
When I line-edit (by permission), the most common revision is omitting needless words (see Strunk & White, Reference Strunk and White2009). Wordy sentences are hard to follow, so authors can help readers by avoiding multiple words, when one word will do. Consider: Extraneous verbal padding and extra words are encouraged and facilitated through the use of passive voice by authors, as well as sentence subjects and objects made up of compound nouns that contain phrases, and also rewording that repeats a concept (40 words). Consider the alternative: Passive voice, noun phrases, and elegant restatement add unnecessary words (10 words).
Jargon is another writing sin. Unless precision requires a technical word, use a common word. Similarly, do not show off your high-verbal GRE by picking obscure words when plain ones will do: Choose everyday words with fewer syllables (but not slang or contractions).
Show, do not tell, what is important, interesting, or surprising. Readers will not take your word for it just because you say, “It is crucial that …” Not only does this phrasing waste words, it also insults the reader's own judgment. And it subordinates the main point to the author's judgment about it.
Finally, background the authors, and foreground the research. Why say “Smith and Brown (2017) conducted an experiment and found,” which emphasizes the people and subordinates the findings. Instead: “Participants reported excitement after reading the Sternberg volume, compared with controls who read the Amtrak train schedule.”
This volume's earlier chapters, as well as other authorities, offer compatible style advice. Discussion sections should avoid repetition, polemics, and triviality (APA, 2010). Hands down, the best general advice on writing is The elements of style (Strunk & White, Reference Strunk and White2009).
Conclusion
When all is said and revised, discussion sections can satisfy both writers and readers. Summaries and conclusions serve convenience; limitations provide self-correction; implications and future directions offer creativity. Conclusions wrap up.
In 2016, the newspaper USA Today relieved its crossword puzzle editor of his duties (Mele, Reference Mele2016). The reason he was relieved of his duties, you ask? He copied significant portions of crossword puzzles that had previously appeared in another outlet, The New York Times. Moreover, he did not credit The New York Times with the crossword puzzles that he used. That is, he presented the crossword puzzles in USA Today as being ones that he produced. This practice of crediting sources is often called documenting or referencing. In this chapter, we begin by explaining why the process of referencing one's sources of information in research is so important. Then, we detail the contents needed to provide a reference when conducting psychological research.
Why Do We Provide References?
You have no doubt heard about the evils of plagiarism elsewhere. However, avoiding plagiarism is only one reason – and in our view, not even the most important reason – to document the sources for the foundation of your work. Rather, there are important reasons why you need to provide information about the source materials that comprise the foundation of your own work.
First, you have likely been told to find a “hole in the literature” when deciding how to proceed with your research. The only way to justify that your work fills a hole in the literature is to show that you have adequately and accurately reviewed the available literature. By discussing and citing key studies, you not only justify the importance of your work, but you also situate your work within a body of research. Indeed, we all have ideas for research studies that are rooted in personal experience or other relatively random insights; however, such inspirations must lead to a review of the empirical and theoretical literature to establish the importance of your research idea.
Second, you are showing respect for the people who inspired your research when you cite their work. Regardless of whether you agree with their research or not, when you cite important and relevant work, you are showing that you have taken the time to read and think about what previous scholars have accomplished. It is important to document, to the extent it is relevant to do so, the historical context of the topic that you are researching.
Third, by documenting your sources, you are providing the blueprints needed for future studies. Think about building a house. What information would you need to do this project? You would need to know what materials are needed, where those materials are to be used (e.g., to construct the kitchen, to provide roofing, to support the flooring), how to use those materials to construct each part of the house, how much the materials will cost, and, of course, how long it normally takes to build the house with those materials. In a sense, building a house is analogous to doing a research project. You do background research to see what has been done before. You use the information from previously constructed houses to decide how to build your ideal house. Even after you have the blueprints for your house, permits are required to ensure that you are not violating city codes. Often blueprints for similar constructions are used to justify why your blueprints are appropriate. Although you do not need to always credit the architect of similar house blueprints, you do need to give credit to the sources used in your research. Not only is this crediting a form of respect to those that have inspired your work, the citations become part of the blueprints of your study.
Research blueprints enable us to conduct a research study in the same manner as the original researchers conducted their study. Replicability is one of the hallmark characteristics of science. The scientific community can have more faith in repeated results from multiple research studies conducted by separate researchers. Suppose Dr. Sternberg conducted a research study at his large university. We find it interesting and decide to replicate it at our small liberal-arts college. In doing so, we must reference Dr. Sternberg's work, not simply for professional courtesy, but to show that our blueprint is situated in successful previous work.
Contents Needed in Referencing a Source
When documenting the sources that provide the foundation for your work, you need to give the “who,” “when,” “what,” and “where” for each source of information that was used to guide your work. This chapter is organized around each of these four pieces of information that, together, constitute referencing your sources.
The “Who”
As noted earlier, it is important to record “who” conducted the research that informed your work. In the course of designing a research project, you have undoubtedly read many journal articles, book chapters, and books. That does not mean when you present your research project that your need to reference every source that you read. Indeed, when we began our research careers, we always felt like we were leaving out something if we did not reference every source with which we were familiar. The sources of information that must be referenced are those that most directly contributed to your research project.
It can be difficult to figure out when to cite information in text. For example, we know of one case where a student was accused of plagiarism when she referenced who conducted research that she was describing early in the paper, but when she discussed the research again later in the paper, the reference was omitted. According to APA style, you need to make sure that each sentence includes a reference to the work you are discussing. If you have two different ideas from the same source in a single sentence, you only need to cite the source once at the end of the sentence. If it starts to look like an entire paragraph has the same citation at the end of every sentence, then you will need to be a bit more creative with how you construct your sentences. For example, in the second sentence about the cited research you can say something such as, “Christopher and colleagues further noted that …” Or, “In their study, Christopher and colleagues (year) …” Both examples indicate that you are referring back to the previous citation.
When the cited source has one or two authors, the authors must be mentioned every time. If the cited source has three to five authors, all authors are included the first time the source is cited. Each subsequent reference to the research only needs to include the first author's surname and “et al.” If the source has six or more authors, you only need to cite the first author's surname and “et al.” every time the source is cited.
In addition to the authors’ last names, it is important to include the publication year in the in-text citation. If there is no year-of-publication, use “n.d.” in the text. In the next section, we discuss the importance of understanding “when” the cited research was published.
The “When”
As a general rule, you should use the most current sources available to make a point. If a paper published in 2018 replicated a result originally found in 2008, it is better to cite the 2018 source at the very least. The logic here is that the most current sources reflect the most up-to-date thinking in the discipline. Of course, there is nothing wrong with citing both the 2008 source and the 2018 source. However, be careful not to engage in what is called “superfluous citing” of sources. That is, do not reference every possible source that makes a point that you want to make.
What constitutes a “recent reference”? There is no hard-and-fast rule, but in our opinion “recent” references should have been published or presented within the last five years. Sources that have been published or presented within the past 5–10 years are “reasonably recent,” within the past 10–15 years are “acceptable,” and those more than 15 years old are “dated,” or perhaps “classic.” There is nothing wrong with citing older sources; indeed, citing such resources shows that you understand the historical context of your work. However, to show that your work is novel and relevant, the preponderance of your references should be no more than ten years old.
If you find an older source that seems relevant to your research, you should conduct a cited reference search on that source. A cited reference search allows you to take a reference, such as a journal article, and see sources that have cited that reference in their own work. The logic here is that those subsequent (and more recent) sources that cited the older reference might be relevant to your work. Most search engines, such as PsycINFO and Google Scholar, provide a link that says something such as “Cited by.” You can click on that link, and it provides your cited reference search. Scrolling through the most recent references might provide new sources that can help you with your work.
The “What”
As we mentioned earlier, being able to explain a source's contribution to your work demonstrates that you understand that source in relation to your own work. When writing the blueprints for your work, you must demonstrate that you understand the blueprints that you are using to guide your work. To show that you understand the research being cited, you must explain what the research is about in your own words. As seen in the case of the USA Today crossword puzzle editor, not providing references that support one's work can lead to being discredited in your discipline.
Dana Dunn (Reference Dunn1999, p. 89) provided a short, four-item checklist to help writers determine whether or not a source should be cited:
Was any scientific fact, hypothesis, or definition from the reference used?
Were any ideas from the reference used to shape your thinking about the theory used in your project?
Did you borrow or adapt any methodology from a reference for your project?
Did you use the same statistical tests or other analytic procedures discussed in the reference?
Part of knowing what information to cite is related to the audience for which you are writing. For example, if you are writing for a journal devoted to the concept of personality, you can generally assume that your readers have a reasonable notion of the concept of the construct of extraversion. However, that same notion in a journal devoted to memory cannot be assumed. Therefore, we suggest that you generally be safe and cite more rather than less of the material or terms used in your paper.
Citing research helps you avoid plagiarism. The term “plagiarism” often conjures up images of copying, verbatim, another person's work. Certainly, that is one instance of plagiarism, but it is only one instance among many. Changing only a word or two from another person's work, even when citing that work, is a form of plagiarism. However, plagiarism can manifest itself in other ways, too. Any time a writer does not provide credit for an idea or finding that originated elsewhere, that is an instance of plagiarism. When providing credit to others’ work, APA provides slightly different guidelines for quoting, paraphrasing, and summarizing.
A direct quote is when an individual chooses to “reproduce word for word material directly quoted from another author's work from your own previously published work, material replicated from a test item, and verbatim instructions to participants” (APA, 2010, p. 170). You can actually plagiarize your own writing! It is important that you do not present previously published work as new work. You should place a direct quotation in quotation marks and indicate the page number for the citation. In general, if you have used three words in a row that are identical to the source text, this is considered quotation. If a quotation is longer than 40 words, create a freestanding block on a new line and indent the block about a half inch from the left margin. You do not need quotation marks for block quotations.
A couple of liberties you can take when directly quoting the source information are that you can change the first letter of the quotation and the punctuation at the end of the quotation. The lowercase “r” in the word “reproduce” in the direct quote in the previous paragraph was actually an uppercase “R” in the original text. However, to maintain the integrity and accuracy of the original text, the APA stylebook recommends that you not change any nouns or pronouns in a quotation, even if the term is considered biased today. If the usage is especially egregious, you can insert [sic] to indicate that the usage is no longer acceptable.
Direct quotations should be used with caution. It is generally better to paraphrase or summarize the original work. Paraphrasing can be quite difficult because, as you learned earlier, simply changing a couple of words is still plagiarism. To paraphrase or summarize material adequately, you must be able to maintain the meaning of the original text while using your own words. Getting the meaning wrong is not plagiarism, but it is a case of academic dishonesty. Thus, it is important not to misrepresent the original text. When paraphrasing or summarizing, APA does not require that you include a page number.
Keep in mind that when you paraphrase or summarize, sources of information generally come in one of two forms. Primary sources are those provided by the people who conducted a research study. Secondary sources are those that describe primary sources of information. Textbooks are a common form of secondary source information, as they present information from primary sources. If you cite the secondary source (the textbook) as the originator of the research, this is considered plagiarism. We recommend that you always try to find, read, and cite the primary source. By locating and reading the primary source, you can verify that the information you are citing is accurate and appropriate for the context.
Finally, when using APA style, a references section only includes the work that is cited. Although other sources may be interesting and worth pursuing in future work, only cite the work that you actually used in your writing. In other words, the references and the citations in the paper should match. Part of citing the work of others is to show that you understand the research done by those other researchers. The reader cannot possibly determine if you actually read the work in the references section if it is not cited in an appropriate and accurate manner in the text itself. Again, make sure your citations and references match.
The “Where”
Two more important components of referencing work are (1) documenting where the original work was published and (2) knowing where to put this information in your APA paper. In psychology, there is a stand-alone reference section that begins on the first full page after the end of the text. It contains the full references for each source cited in the paper, including the “who,” “when,” “what,” and “where” of the cited work. Any sources cited in the text must appear in the reference list.
References appear in alphabetical order, starting with the surname of each source's first author. If you need to reference a first author who has multiple sources you have cited, arrange them in alphabetical order by the surname of the second author. If the multiple sources have just one author, order them chronologically, starting with the oldest source. If the multiple sources have two or more authors, order them alphabetically by the surname of the second author.
At the risk of stating the obvious, you need to cite your sources correctly. Readers may be interested in reading some of a particular source you cited in your work. If you do not cite it correctly, readers may well not be able to locate it themselves. A potentially less obvious reason is that the number of times a researcher's publication is cited, the more prestigious that work is deemed to be. Indeed, for some researchers, their work is evaluated, in part, by how many times it is cited by other researchers. If you inaccurately cite a source, it will not get the recognition it has earned.
What does it mean to cite your sources correctly? Much like there is a format for in-text citations, there is a format for the reference list. Generally, APA format is the preferred style. However, journals sometimes have their own guidelines for crafting your references section. Therefore, be sure to check the individual journal's informational website when attempting to publish.
Journal articles are commonly found in the references section when writing in psychology. Let's walk through how to write a journal article reference. Assume the cited article has three authors. You will first need to spell out their surnames, followed by their first and middle initials. Then comes the year of publication, followed by the title of the article. We next have the name of the journal in which the article appeared and the volume number in which it appeared, both in italics. Then we have the page numbers on which the article appeared. Here is what the reference would look like in the list of references:
Last, F. M., Second, A. N., & Third, T. C. (year). Title of the article. Name of the Journal, volume number, page numbers. doi locator number
In addition to this information, you may have noticed that we included what is called a doi locator number, which is essentially a link that allows people reading your article in electronic format to access easily a reference in your article. Many recent articles include a doi locator number on the first page. However, many older articles do not do so. You can use this tool to find doi locator numbers for both recent and more-dated sources: www.crossref.org/guestquery/. From this site, you can cut-and-paste a doi locator number into your references section. We recommend this cut-and-paste method because it is less prone to human error than entering the number yourself. Do not add any punctuation after the doi locator because doing so will affect readers’ ability to download that source.
With the increasing accessibility of resources, it is important to indicate how you accessed the reference. Below are three different examples of how to cite a single chapter in an edited book:
When the doi is unavailable.
Last, F. M., Second, A. N., & Third, T. C. (year). Title of chapter. In Editor First Initial, Last Name (Ed.), Title of the book (pp. xxx–xxx). City of publication, State of publication: Publisher's name.
When the doi is available.
Last, F. M., Second, A. N., & Third, T. C. (year). Title of chapter. In Editor First Initial, Last Name (Ed.), Title of the book (pp. xxx–xxx). City of publication, State of publication: Publisher's name. doi:xxxxx
When retrieved online without a doi.
Last, F. M., Second, A. N., & Third, T. C. (year). Title of chapter. In Editor First Initial, Last Name (Ed.), Title of the book (pp. xxx–xxx). City of publication, State of publication: Publisher's name. Retrieved from http://xxxxx
Although perhaps tangential to our purpose now, if you are writing a paper to submit for publication, you should consider journals from which you have cited a relatively large quantity of your references. For instance, if you have 20 sources in your references section, and eight of them come from one particular journal, you should consider that journal in deciding where to submit your paper. Our logic is that if a preponderance of your work is based on sources from a particular outlet, that outlet might be interested in your work.
Digital Documentation Tools and Moving Forward
Based on the discussion of the book chapter, you can see how the internet has changed how we document our references. More and more work is being conducted electronically, and APA has modified its practices accordingly to include both doi and URL as indicators of where the work was accessed. We recommend that you always check the most recent version of the APA manual if you encounter an internet citation that you are unsure how to cite.
In addition to checking the APA manual or website, increased technological capabilities have enabled the production of several reference management software programs that can be used to help you organize and document your citations. For example, EndNote is available for purchase if you would like to store the data on your desktop. Even more accessible, EndNote Basic, the web version, is available for free. BibMe, Citation Machine, and Easy Bib are more free online tools that can be used only to help you format your citations in the most recent APA format.
Finally, there are now digital programs available for you to use to make sure you do not plagiarize. Both BibMe and Turnitin.com are relatively easy-to-use tools that allow for the detection of potential plagiarism. These online tools are particularly useful because plagiarism does not always happen intentionally. To help assure you have not fallen into this trap, we recommend checking your work using a program such as Turnitin.com. If there is a problem regarding plagiarism, it is certainly better to catch it yourself before someone else does. Just ask the former crossword puzzle author at USA Today.