Beer and diapers: Netflix edition

When we started using Netflix last May, we created three personas for the three of us in the family – “Karthik”, “Priyanka” and “Berry”. At that time we didn’t realise that there was already a pre-created “kids” (subsequently renamed “children” – don’t know why that happened) persona there.

So while Priyanka and I mostly use our respective personas to consume Netflix (our interests in terms of video content hardly intersect), Berry uses both her profile and the kids profile for her stuff (of course, she’s too young to put it on herself. We do it for her). So over the year, the “Berry” profile has been mostly used to play Peppa Pig, and the occasional wildlife documentary.

Which is why we were shocked the other day to find that “Real life wife swap” had been recommended on her account. Yes, you read that right. We muttered a word of abuse about Netflix’s machine learning algorithms and since then have only used the “kids” profile to play Berry’s stuff.

Since then I’ve been wondering what made Netflix recommend “real life wife swap” to Berry. Surely, it would have been clear to Netflix that while it wasn’t officially classified as one, the Berry persona was a kid’s account? And even if it didn’t, didn’t the fact that the account was used for watching kids’ stuff lead the collaborative filtering algorithms at Netflix to recommend more kids’ stuff? I’ve come up with various hypotheses.

Since I’m not Netflix, and I don’t have their data, I can’t test it, but my favourite hypothesis so far involves what is possibly the most commonly cited example in retail analytics – “beer and diapers“. In this most-likely-apocryphal story, a supermarket chain discovered that beer and diapers were highly likely to appear together in shopping baskets. Correlation led to causation and a hypothesis was made that this was the result of tired fathers buying beer on their diaper shopping trips.

So the Netflix version of beer-and-diapers, which is my hypothesis, goes like this. Harrowed parents are pestered by their kids to play Peppa Pig and other kiddie stuff. The parents are so stressed that they don’t switch to the kid’s persona, and instead play Peppa Pig or whatever from their own accounts. The kid is happy and soon goes to bed. And then the parent decides to unwind by watching some raunchy stuff like “real life wife swap”.

Repeat this story in enough families, and you have a strong enough pattern that accounts not explicitly classified as “kids/children” have strong activity of both kiddie stuff and adult content. And when you use an account not explicitly mentioned as “kids” to watch kiddie stuff, it gets matched to these accounts that have created the pattern – Netflix effectively assumes that watching kid stuff on an adult account indicates that the same account is used to watch adult content as well. And so serves it to Berry!

Machine learning algorithms basically work on identifying patterns in data, and then fitting these patterns on hitherto unseen data. Sometimes the patterns make sense – like Google Photos identifying you even in your kiddie pics. Other times, the patterns are offensive – like the time Google Photos classified a black woman as a “gorilla“.

Thus what is necessary is some level of human oversight, to make sure that the patterns the machine has identified makes some sort of sense (machine learning purists say this is against the spirit of machine learning, since one of the purposes of machine learning is to discover patterns not perceptible to humans).

That kind of oversight at Netflix would have suggested that you can’t tag a profile to a “kiddie content AND adult content” category if the profile has been used to watch ONLY kiddie content (or ONLY adult content). And that kind of oversight would have also led Netflix to investigate issues of users using “general” account for their kids, and coming up with an algorithm to classify such accounts as kids’ accounts, and serve only kids’ content there.

It seems, though, that algorithms run supreme at Netflix, and so my baby daughter gets served “real life wife swap”. Again, this is all a hypothesis (real life wife swap being recommended is a fact, of course)!

More on interactive graphics

So for a while now I’ve been building this cricket visualisation thingy. Basically it’s what I think is a pseudo-innovative way of describing a cricket match, by showing how the game ebbs and flows, and marking off the key events.

Here’s a sample, from the ongoing game between Chennai Super Kings and Kolkata Knight Riders.

As you might appreciate, this is a bit cluttered. One “brilliant” idea I had to declutter this was to create an interactive version, using Plotly and D3.js. It’s the same graphic, but instead of all those annotations appearing, they’ll appear when you hover on those boxes (the boxes are still there). Also, when you hover over the line you can see the score and what happened on that ball.

When I came up with this version two weeks back, I sent it to a few friends. Nobody responded. I checked back with them a few days later. Nobody had seen it. They’d all opened it on their mobile devices, and interactive graphics are ill-defined for mobile!

Because on mobile there’s no concept of “hover”. Even “click” is badly defined because fingers are much fatter than mouse pointers.

And nowadays everyone uses mobile – even in corporate settings. People who spend most time in meetings only have access to their phones while in there, and consume all their information through that.

Yet, you have visualisation “experts” who insist on the joys of tools such as Tableau, or other things that produce nice-looking interactive graphics. People go ga-ga over motion charts (they’re slightly better in that they can communicate more without input from the user).

In my opinion, the lack of use on mobile is the last nail in the coffin of interactive graphics. It is not like they didn’t have their problems already – the biggest problem for me is that it takes too much effort on the part of the user to understand the message that is being sent out. Interactive graphics are also harder to do well, since the users might use them in ways not intended – hovering and clicking on the “wrong” places, making it harder to communicate the message you want to communicate.

As a visualiser, one thing I’m particular about is being in control of the message. As a rule, a good visualisation contains one overarching message, and a good visualisation is one in which the user gets the message as soon as she sees the chart. And in an interactive chart which the user has to control, there is no way for the designer to control the message!

Hopefully this difficulty with seeing interactive charts on mobile will mean that my clients will start demanding them less (at least that’s the direction in which I’ve been educating them all along!). “Controlling the narrative” and “too much work for consumer” might seem like esoteric problems with something, but “can’t be consumed on mobile” is surely a winning argument!

 

 

A banker’s apology

Whenever there is a massive stock market crash, like the one in 1987, or the crisis in 2008, it is common for investment banking quants to talk about how it was a “1 in zillion years” event. This is on account of their models that typically assume that stock prices are lognormal, and that stock price movement is Markovian (today’s movement is uncorrelated with tomorrow’s).

In fact, a cursory look at recent data shows that what models show to be a one in zillion years event actually happens every few years, or decades. In other words, while quant models do pretty well in the average case, they have thin “tails” – they underestimate the likelihood of extreme events, leading to building up risk in the situation.

When I decided to end my (brief) career as an investment banking quant in 2011, I wanted to take the methods that I’d learnt into other industries. While “data science” might have become a thing in the intervening years, there is still a lot for conventional industry to learn from banking in terms of using maths for management decision-making. And this makes me believe I’m still in business.

And like my former colleagues in investment banking quant, I’m not immune to the fat tail problem as well – replicating solutions from one domain into another can replicate the problems as well.

For a while now I’ve been building what I think is a fairly innovative way to represent a cricket match. Basically you look at how the balance of play shifts as the game goes along. So the representation is a line graph that shows where the balance of play was at different points of time in the game.

This way, you have a visualisation that at one shot tells you how the game “flowed”. Consider, for example, last night’s game between Mumbai Indians and Chennai Super Kings. This is what the game looks like in my representation.

What this shows is that Mumbai Indians got a small advantage midway through the innings (after a short blast by Ishan Kishan), which they held through their innings. The game was steady for about 5 overs of the CSK chase, when some tight overs created pressure that resulted in Suresh Raina getting out.

Soon, Ambati Rayudu and MS Dhoni followed him to the pavilion, and MI were in control, with CSK losing 6 wickets in the course of 10 overs. When they lost Mark Wood in the 17th Over, Mumbai Indians were almost surely winners – my system reckoning that 48 to win in 21 balls was near-impossible.

And then Bravo got into the act, putting on 39 in 10 balls with Imran Tahir watching at the other end (including taking 20 off a Mitchell McClenaghan over, and 20 again off a Jasprit Bumrah over at the end of which Bravo got out). And then a one-legged Jadhav came, hobbled for 3 balls and then finished off the game.

Now, while the shape of the curve in the above curve is representative of what happened in the game, I think it went too close to the axes. 48 off 21 with 2 wickets in hand is not easy, but it’s not a 1% probability event (as my graph depicts).

And looking into my model, I realise I’ve made the familiar banker’s mistake – of assuming independence and Markovian property. I calculate the probability of a team winning using a method called “backward induction” (that I’d learnt during my time as an investment banking quant). It’s the same system that the WASP system to evaluate odds (invented by a few Kiwi scientists) uses, and as I’d pointed out in the past, WASP has the thin tails problem as well.

As Seamus Hogan, one of the inventors of WASP, had pointed out in a comment on that post, one way of solving this thin tails issue is to control for the pitch or  regime, and I’ve incorporated that as well (using a Bayesian system to “learn” the nature of the pitch as the game goes on). Yet, I see I struggle with fat tails.

I seriously need to find a way to take into account serial correlation into my models!

That said, I must say I’m fairly kicked about the system I’ve built. Do let me know what you think of this!

English Premier League: Goal Difference to points correlation

So I was just looking down the English Premier League Table for the season, and I found that as I went down the list, the goal difference went lower. There’s nothing counterintuitive in this, but the degree of correlation seemed eerie.

So I downloaded the data and plotted a scatter-plot. And what do you have? A near-perfect regression. I even ran the regression and found a 96% R Square.

In other words, this EPL season has simply been all about scoring lots of goals and not letting in too many goals. It’s almost like the distribution of the goals itself doesn’t matter – apart from the relegation battle, that is!

PS: Look at the extent of Manchester City’s lead at the top. And what a scrap the relegation is!

Stirring the pile efficiently

Warning: This is a technical post, and involves some code, etc. 

As I’ve ranted a fair bit on this blog over the last year, a lot of “machine learning” in the industry can be described as “stirring the pile”. Regular readers of this blog will be familiar with this image from XKCD by now:

Source: https://xkcd.com/1838/

Basically people simply take datasets and apply all the machine learning techniques they have heard of (implementation is damn easy – scikit learn allows you to implement just about any model in three similar looking lines of code; See my code here to see how similar the implementation is).

So I thought I’ll help these pile-stirrers by giving some hints of what method to use for different kinds of data. I’ve over-simplified stuff, and so assume that:

  1. There are two predictor variables X and Y. The predicted variable “Z” is binary.
  2. X and Y are each drawn from a standard normal distribution.
  3. The predicted variable Z is “clean” – there is a region in the X-Y plane where Z is always “true” and another region where Z is always “false”
  4. So the idea is to see which machine learning techniques are good at identifying which kind of geometrical figures.
  5. Everything is done “in-sample”. Given the nature of the data, it doesn’t matter if we do it in-sample or out-of-sample.

For those that understand Python (and every pile-stirrer worth his salt is excellent at Python), I’ve put my code in a nice Jupyter Notebook, which can be found here.

So this is what the output looks like. The top row shows the “true values” of Z. Then we have a row for each of the techniques we’ve used, which shows how well these techniques can identify the pattern given in the top row (click on the image for full size).

As you can see, I’ve chosen some common geometrical shapes and seen which methods are good at identifying those. A few pertinent observations:

  1. Logistic regression and linear SVM are broadly similar, and both are shit for this kind of dataset. Being linear models, they fail to deal with non-linear patterns
  2. SVM with RBF kernel is better, but it fails when there are multiple “true regions” in the dataset. At least it’s good at figuring out some non-linear patterns. However, it can’t figure out the triangle or square – it draws curves around them, instead.
  3. Naive Bayesian (I’ve never understood this even though I’m pretty good at Bayesian statistics, but I understand this is a commonly used technique; and I’ve used default parameters so not sure how it is “Bayesian” even) can identify some stuff but does badly when there are disjoint regions where Z is true.
  4. Ensemble methods such as Random Forests and Gradient Boosting do rather well on all the given inputs. They do well for both polygons and curves. Elsewhere, Ada Boost mostly does well but trips up on the hyperbola.
  5. For some reason, Lasso fails to give an output (in the true spirit of pile-stirring, I didn’t explore why). Ridge is again a regression method and so does badly on this non-linear dataset
  6. Neural Networks (Multi Layer Perceptron to be precise) does reasonably well, but can’t figure out the sharp edges of the polygons.
  7. Decision trees again do rather well. I’m pleasantly surprised that they pick up and classify the disjoint sets (multi-circle and hyperbola) correctly. Maybe it’s the way scikit learn implements them?

Of course, the datasets that one comes across in real life are never such simple geometrical figures, but I hope that this set can give you some idea on what techniques to use where.

At least I hope that this makes you think about the suitability of different techniques for the data rather than simply applying all the techniques you know and then picking the one that performs best on your given training and test data.

That would count as nothing different from p-hacking, and there’s an XKCD for that as well!

Source: https://xkcd.com/882/

Duckworth Lewis Book

Yesterday at the local council library, I came across this book called “Duckworth Lewis” written by Frank Duckworth and Tony Lewis (who “invented” the eponymous rain rule). While I’d never heard about the book, given my general interest in sports analytics I picked it up, and duly finished reading it by this morning.

The good thing about the book is that though it’s in some way a collective autobiography of Duckworth and Lewis, they restrict their usual life details to a minimum, and mostly focus on what they are famous for. There are occasions when they go into too much detail describing a trip to either Australia or the West Indies, but it’s easy to filter out such stuff and read the book for the rain rule.

Then again, it isn’t a great book. If you’re not interested in cricket analytics there isn’t that much for you to know from the book. But given that it’s a quick read, it doesn’t hurt so much! Anyway, here are some pertinent observations:

  1. Duckworth and Lewis didn’t get paid much for their method. They managed to get the ICC to accept their method sometime in the mid 90s, but it wasn’t until the early 2000s, by when Lewis had become a business school professor, that they managed to strike a financial deal with ICC. Even when they did, they make it sound like they didn’t make much money off it.
  2. The method came about when Duckworth quickly put together something for a statistics conference he was organising, where another speaker who was supposed to speak about cricket pulled out at the last minute. Lewis later came across the paper, and then got one of his undergrad students to do a project about it. The two men subsequently collaborated
  3. It’s amazing (not in a positive way) the kind of data that went into the method. Until the early 2000s, the only dataset that was used to calibrate the method was what was put together by Lewis’s undergrad. And this was mostly English County games, played over 40, 55 and 60 overs. Even after that, the frequency of updation with new data (which reflects new playing styles and strategies) is rather low.
  4. The system doesn’t seem to have been particularly well software engineered – it was initially simply coded up by Duckworth, and until as late as 2007 it ran on the DOS operating system. It was only in 2008 or so, when Steven Stern joined the team (now the method is called DLS to include his name), that a windows version was introduced.
  5. There is very little discussion of alternate methods, and though there is a chapter about it, Duckworth and Lewis are rather dismissive about them. For example, another popular method is by this guy called V Jayadevan from Thrissur. Here is some excellent analysis by Srinivas Bhogle where he compares the two methods. Duckworth and Lewis spend a couple of pages listing a couple of scenarios where Jayadevan’s method doesn’t work, and then spends a paragraph disparaging Bhogle for his support of the VJD method.
  6. This was the biggest takeaway from the book for me – the Duckworth Lewis method doesn’t equalise probabilities of victory of the two teams before and after the rain interruption. Instead, the method equalises the margin of victory between the teams before and after the break. So let’s say a team was 10 runs behind the DL “par score” when it rains. When the game restarts, the target is set such that the team is still 10 runs behind the par score! They make an attempt to explain why this is superior to equalising probabilities of winning  but don’t go too far with it.
  7. The adoption of Duckworth Lewis seems like a fairly random event. Following the World Cup 1992 debacle (when South Africa’s target went from 22 off 13 to 22 off 1 ball after a rain break), there was a demand for new rain rules. Duckworth and Lewis somehow managed to explain their method to the ECB secretary. And since it was superior to everything that was there then, it simply got adopted. And then it became incumbent, and became hard to dislodge!
  8. There is no mention in the book about the inherent unfairness of the DL method (in that it can be unfair to some playing styles).

Ok this is already turning out to be a long post, but one final takeaway is that there’s a fair amount of randomness in sports analytics, and you shouldn’t get into it if your only potential customer is a national sporting body. In that sense, developments such as the IPL are good for sports analytics!

Ratings revisited

Sometimes I get a bit narcissistic, and check how my book is doing. I log on to the seller portal to see how many copies have been sold. I go to the Amazon page and see what are the other books that people who have bought my book are buying (on the US store it’s Ray Dalio’s Principles, as of now. On the UK and India stores, Sidin’s Bombay Fever is the beer to my book’s diapers).

And then I check if there are new reviews of my book. When friends write them, they notify me, so it’s easy to track. What I discover when I visit my Amazon page are the reviews written by people I don’t know. And so far, most of them have been good.

So today was one of those narcissistic days, and I was initially a bit disappointed to see a new four-star review. I started wondering what this person found wrong with my book. And then I read through the review and found it to be wholly positive.

A quick conversation with the wife followed, and she pointed out that this reviewer perhaps reserves five stars for the exceptional. And then my mind went back to this topic that I’d blogged about way back in 2015 – about rating systems.

The “4.8” score that Amazon gives as an average of all the ratings on my book so far is a rather crude measure – since one reviewer’s 4* rating might differ significantly from another reviewer’s.

For example, my “default rating” for a book might be 5/5, with 4/5 reserved for books I don’t like and 3/5 for atrocious books. On the other hand, you might use the “full scale” and use 3/5 as your average rating, giving 4 for books you really like and very rarely giving a 5.

By simply taking an arithmetic average of ratings, it is possible to overstate the quality of a product that has for whatever reason been rated mostly by people with high default ratings (such a correlation is plausible). Similarly a low average rating for a product might mask the fact that it was rated by people who inherently give low ratings.

As I argue in the penultimate chapter of my book (or maybe the chapter before that – it’s been a while since I finished it), one way that platforms foster transactions is by increasing information flow between the buyer and the seller (this is one thing I’ve gotten good at – plugging my book’s name in random sentences), and one way to do this is by sharing reviews and ratings.

From this perspective, for a platform’s judgment on a product or seller (usually it’s the seller, but for products such as AirBnb, information about buyers also matters) to be credible, it is important that they be aggregated in the right manner.

One way to do this is to use some kind of a Z-score (relative to other ratings that the rater has given) and then come up with a normalised rating. But then this needs to be readjusted for the quality of the other items that this rater has rated. So you can think of some kind of a Singular Value Decomposition you can perform on ratings to find out the “true value” of a product (ok this is an achievement – using a linear algebra reference given how badly I suck in the topic).

I mean – it need not be THAT complicated, but the basic point is that it is important that platforms aggregate ratings in the right manner in order to convey accurate information about counterparties.