The New York Times - USA (2020-10-15)

D4 Y THE NEW YORK TIMES, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2020

co-directors of the lab. The Hedonometer

has been up and running for more than a

decade, measuring word choices across

millions of tweets, every day, the world

over, to come up with a moving

measure of well-being.

In fact, the last time The New

York Times checked in with the

Hedonometer team, in 2015, the

main finding to emerge was our

tendency toward relentless posi-

tivity on social media. “One of the

happiest years on Twitter, at least for

English,” Dr. Danforth said recently with a

note of rue. That result now seems an arti-

fact from an ancient era. “Since then it has

been a long decline.”

What has remained constant is this:

“Happiness is hard to know. It’s hard to

measure,” he said. “We don’t have a lot of

great data about how people are doing.”

The Computational Story Lab is part of a

small but growing field of researchers who

try to parse national mental health through

the prism of our online life. After all, never

before have we had such an incredible

stockpile of real-time data — what’s known

as our “digital traces” — to choose from.

And never has that stockpile of informa-

tion towered as high as it does now: In the

first months of the pandemic, Twitter re-

ported a 34 percent increase in daily aver-

age user growth. Without our normal so-

cial life as antidote and anchor, our so-

cial media now feels more like real

life than ever before.

Since 2008, the Hedonometer

has gathered a random 10 percent

of all public tweets, every day,

across a dozen languages. The tool

then looks for words that have been

ranked for their happy or sad connota-

tion, counts them, and calculates a kind of

national happiness average based on which

words are dominating the discourse.

On May 31, the most commonly used

words on English language Twitter includ-

ed “terrorist,” “violence” and “racist.” This

was about a week after George Floyd was

killed, near the start of the protests that

would last all summer.

Since the beginning of the pandemic, the

Hedonometer’s sadness readings have set

multiple records. This year, “there was a full

month — and we never see this — there was

a full month of days that the Hedonometer

was reading sadder than the Boston Mara-

thon day,” Dr. Danforth said. “Our collective

attention is very ephemeral. So it was really

remarkable then that the instrument, for

the first time, showed this sustained,

depressed mood, and then it got

even worse, when the protests

started.”

James Pennebaker, an intellec-

tual founder of online language

analysis and a social psychologist

at the University of Texas at

Austin, became interested in what

our choice of words reveals about us —

our moods, our characters — exactly at the

moment when the internet was first supply-

ing such an enormous stockpile of text to

draw from and consider.

“These digital traces are markers that

we’re not aware of, but they leave marks

that tell us the degree to which you are

avoiding things, the degree to which you are

connected to people,” said Dr. Pennebaker,

the author of “The Secret Life of Pronouns,”

among other books. “They are telling us

how you are paying attention to the world.”

But, Dr. Pennebaker said, one of the chal-

lenges of this line of research is that lan-

guage itself is always evolving — and algo-

rithms are notoriously bad at discerning

context.

Take, for example, cursing. “Swear words

have changed in the last 10 years,” he said,

noting that often now, far from necessarily

being an expression of anger, cursing can be

either utterly casual, or even positive, used

to emphasize a point or express an enthusi-

asm. He is updating his electronic dictionar-

ies accordingly.

Munmun De Choudhury, a professor in

the School of Interactive Computing at

Georgia Tech, is also examining digital data

for insights into well-being. Dr. De Choud-

hury’s work over the years has focused not

only on population studies, like the Hedo-

nometer, but also on the individual.

In 2013, she and colleagues found that by

looking at new mothers on social media,

they were able to help predict which ones

might develop postpartum depression

based on their posts before the birth of their

babies. One of the most telling signs? The

use of first-person singular pronouns, like

“I” and “me.”

“If I’m constantly talking about ‘me,’ it

means that my attention has inward focus,”

Dr. De Choudhury said. “In the context of

other markers, it can be a correlate of men-

tal illness.”

This finding first emerged in the work of

Dr. Pennebaker, but Dr. De Choudhury said

that particular study was “eye-opening” for

her. “We were pleasantly surprised that

there is so much signal in someone’s social

media feed that can help us make these pre-

dictions,” Dr. De Choudhury said.

Using data from social media for the

study of mental health also helps ad-

dress the WEIRD problem: an acro-

nym that describes how psychol-

ogy research is often exclusively

composed of subjects who are

western, educated, and from in-

dustrialized, rich and democratic

countries.

“Social media provides a huge

benefit because historically most re-

search on mental health has been self-re-

ported, so people were given surveys,” Dr.

De Choudhury said. “And the people who

were recruited were either college students

or patients at a clinic. We’re now able to look

at a much more diverse variety of mental

health experiences.”

Examining Twitter data from the first two

months of the pandemic outbreak in the

United States, Dr. De Choudhury has been

looking for signs of not just simple sadness,

like the Hedonometer, but also anxiety, de-

pression, stress and suicidal thoughts. Un-

surprisingly, she has found that all these

levels were significantly higher than during

the same months of 2019.

You may be wondering if Twitter is really

a representative place to check the state of

the general population’s mental health. Af-

ter all, many of its users tend to refer to it by

such nicknames as “hellsite” and “sewer.”

Some studies have shown that frequent

social media use is correlated with depres-

sion and anxiety. Can we really discern our

national happiness based on this particular

digital environment and the fraction of the

population — one in five in 2019 — that regu-

larly use Twitter?

Angela Xiao Wu thinks we cannot. Dr. Wu,

an assistant professor of media, culture and

communication at N.Y.U., argues that in the

rush to embrace data, many researchers ig-

nore the distorting effects of the platforms

themselves.

We know that Twitter’s algorithms are

designed to keep us hooked on our time-

lines, emotionally invested in the content

we are presented with, coaxed toward re-

maining in a certain mental state. “If social

scientists then take your resulting state, af-

ter all these interventions that these plat-

forms have worked on you, and derive from

that a national mood?” she said. “There’s a

huge part of platform incitement that’s em-

bedded in the data, but is not being identi-

fied.”

Indeed, Johannes Eichstaedt, a computa-

tional social scientist at Stanford, and a

founder of the World Well Being

Project, concedes that the meth-

ods like the ones his own lab uses

are far from perfect. “I would

say it’s about a C-plus,” he said.

“It’s not that accurate, but it’s

better than nothing.”

The closest we get to looking at

national mental health otherwise is

through surveys like the one Gallup per-

forms — and so far, Gallup’s findings are in

line with the early findings of Dr. Eich-

staedt, Dr. De Choudhury and the Hedo-

nometer team.

According to Gallup, Americans reported

the lowest rates of life satisfaction this year

in over a decade, including during the Great

Recession. These statistics are consistent

with other observations: For example, the

experience of many therapists working

long days on Zoom to help patients cope

with the same crisis they themselves are

going through. “I have never been more ex-

hausted at the end of the day than I am

now,” said Michael Garfinkle, a psychoana-

lyst in New York.

Dr. Garfinkle notes that depression

among his patients has noticeably in-

creased since the pandemic began, but as

well, even more broadly, “everyone is trying

to estimate how everyone else is doing, be-

cause everyone is in a state of disorienta-

tion that keeps shifting, but not getting bet-

ter.”

ILLUSTRATIONS BY

MONIQUE WRAY

To See if We’re OK, Check Social Media

Tweets yield a lot

of information, much

of it not so good.

CONTINUED FROM PAGE D1

ALMOST AS SOONas Judge Amy Coney Bar-

rett stepped onto the public stage at the

largely unmasked Rose Garden ceremony

in which President Trump introduced her

as his choice to replace the late Justice Ruth

Bader Ginsburg, the T-shirts appeared.

Touting the jurist as “The Notorious

ACB,” they featured Judge Barrett’s face

atop a simple round-neck shirt — and under

a crown, à la Biggie Smalls (and RBG).

And yet, as the Senate confirmation hear-

ings have made clear, the image Judge Bar-

rett is trying to project is pretty much the

opposite of “notorious.”

Indeed, she even said, during her first

day of questioning, that justices cannot

“walk in like a royal queen and impose their

will on the world.”

Better they walk in like the supermom

next door.

Thus did Judge Barrett enter the hearing

room, accessorized with a single strand of

pearls and a pair of practical pumps, her

just-below-shoulder-length hair neat but

not the sort of sleek sheet that telegraphs

“professionally styled.” Thus did she take

her seat, her children arrayed behind her

like a bouquet: girls in dresses, boys in suits

and ties. Thus was she bathed in the rosy

domestic shades of mid-last-century: ma-

genta, red, lilac and lavender.

She may be about to ascend to the heights

of legal power, ruling on cases that affect the

lives of millions and shape future genera-

tions, but she does so cloaked in an image

that calls to mind not the clichéd glass-

ceiling breaker in a can’t-miss-me trouser

suit and power pin, but rather the P.T.A.

In an arena of lawmakers poised to lob a

variety of rhetorical grenades (aimed, to be

fair, largely at one another), it was a stra-

tegic, disarming choice.

Why does it matter, in this woman of un-

questionable substance? The question was

raised, fairly, when a female lawyer posted

a critical tweet about the choice of a dress

without jacket on Day 1.

It’s because the hearings are theater, en-

acted for the benefit of the viewers: the

famed “American public,” the senators kept

addressing. After all, given the pandemic,

the most logical choice would have been to

hold the hearings, if they were to be held at

all, remotely and via video.

Instead, they took place live and in per-

son (with some senators appearing re-

motely), allowing the senators to posture

and speechify for the camera, both Demo-

crats and Republicans, even though they all

kept saying that the result was a foregone

conclusion.

Which suggested that the result was not

the point. Public relations, geared toward

an election, was the point. And in P.R., im-

age matters. A lot.

The hearings are a three-day opportunity

for Judge Barrett to present herself not as

the caricature both sides are trying to draw

(as she said), but as an individual of her

own making. To frame herself beyond the

page and prime the country’s citizens to see

her through the filter of their own free asso-

ciations. To that end, how she looks is the

visual equivalent of the prepared state-

ment.

And as such it is notable that ever since

she has first appeared in the Rose Garden,

Judge Barrett has primarily worn jewel-

neck dresses with bracelet sleeves, and dis-

creet to-the-knee hemlines. Occasionally

with a stylized bow. First there was the

espresso dress she wore to accept her nomi-

nation. Then the navy style adopted for her

first round on Capitol Hill. The magenta

dress with a neat integral bow on Day 1 of

the hearings.

Even the red jacket with matching skirt

or dress (it was impossible to tell) she wore

on Day 2 echoed the silhouette: three-

quarter-length sleeves, round neck without

lapels or obvious shoulder pads, straight

skirt hovering above her knees.

Ditto on Day 3: the pastel blouse with the

little upstanding frill at the neck, worn un-

der the soft, nubby tweed jacket (again, no

lapels and gently rounded shoulders) in a

complementary pixelated shade, with

matching straight knee-length skirt.

If you think, “Dress, big whoop,” know

this: During Barack Obama’s first presiden-

tial campaign, after Michelle Obama was at-

tacked for the fist bump and showing off her

biceps, her style adviser at the time told her

that to help change the narrative until the

election, she would be wearing dresses with

sleeves.

That look, in the subconscious mind of the

electorate, was nonthreatening and ma-

ternal. Familiar (familial). Reassuring.

Playing on such stereotypes from our

shared past is a basic part of the political

playbook.

It’s a look that is more classically femi-

nine — ladylike, even — than is usual in

such situations, now that even movie stars

tend to trouser suits and glasses. Notable in

its consistency. But also noncontroversial

and nonconfrontational.

(The senators, by comparison, were

happy to confront both verbally and visu-

ally, so that even when they weren’t speak-

ing, they were making a point to their con-

stituencies: Mazie Hirono, Democrat of Ha-

waii, wore a face mask printed with RBG

figures; Amy Klobuchar, Democrat of Min-

nesota, wore a “Vote” mask. Both wore little

RBG lapel pins. And Ted Cruz, Republican

of Texas, returning from quarantine, wore a

mask in the form of the Texas flag.)

The effect is to present the nominee as

the opposite of an extremist — which is, of

course, how the Democrats are trying to

portray her. She doesn’t look like someone

who will take away your health care; she

looks like someone who will bandage your

boo-boo with brisk efficiency, give you a Spi-

derman Band-Aid and send you on your

way.

What is the opposition talking about, with

their wild accusations? Golly gee. Are you

going to believe them, with their endless re-

petitive questions about cases? Or are you

going to trust in your very own eyes?

She doesn’t look like someone who thinks

she is more clever than you, even though

she graduated first in her law school class

so... duh. And she didn’t need notes!

She radiates preparedness, not in a

smarty-pants way, but in the way of the par-

ent who leaves the house with wet wipes, a

pen and a snack in her handbag. She looks

decorous. She looks like someone who

would — as she said — respect history and

authority, rather than upend it. She looks

like someone good at baking snickerdoo-

dles. Though she didn’t say that, and it may

not be true.

Still, if there’s one thing she understands,

it is precedent.

Pearls, Pumps and Precedent

FROM LEFT: ANNA MONEYMAKER FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES; ERIN SCHAFF/THE NEW YORK TIMES; J. SCOTT APPLEWHITE/ASSOCIATED PRESS

Top from left, Judge Amy Coney Barrett on Day 2, Day 1 and Day 3 of her Supreme Court confirmation hearing. Above from left: Judge Barrett

with President Trump when he announced her as his pick for the Supreme Court; and visiting the Capitol with Vice President Mike Pence.

UNBUTTONED VANESSA FRIEDMAN

Image becomes

evidence in the case

of Amy Coney Barrett.

AL DRAGO FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES ERIN SCHAFF/THE NEW YORK TIMES