Visual cues affect how data are perceived

Here's a recent NYT graphic showing California's water situation at different time scales (link to article).

It's a small multiples display, showing the spatial distribution of the precipitation amounts in California. The two panels show, respectively, the short-term view (past month) and the longer-term view (3 years). Precipitation is measured in relative terms,  so what is plotted is the relative ratio of precipitation in the reference period, with 100 being the 30-year average.

Green is much wetter than average while brown is much drier than average.

The key to making this chart work is a common color scheme across the two panels.

Also, the placement of major cities provides anchor points for our eyes to move back and forth between the two panels.

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The NYT graphic is technically well executed. I'm a bit unhappy with the headline: "Recent rains haven't erased California's long-term drought".

At the surface, the conclusion seems sensible. Look, there is a lot of green, even deep green, on the left panel, which means the state got lots more rain than usual in the past month. Now, on the right panel, we find patches of brown, and very little green.

But pay attention to the scale. The light brown color, which covers the largest area, has value 70 to 90, thus, these regions have gotten 10-30% less precipitation than average in the past three years relative to the 30-year average.

Here's the question: what does it mean by "erasing California's long-term drought"? Does the 3-year average have to equal or exceed the 30-year average? Why should that be the case?

If we took all 3-year windows within those 30 years, we're definitely not going to find that each such 3-year average falls at or above the 30-year average. To illustrate this, I pulled annual rainfall data for San Francisco. Here is a histogram of 3-year averages for the 30-year period 1991-2020.

For example, the first value is the average rainfall for years 1989, 1990 and 1991, the next value is the average of 1990, 1991, and 1992, and so on. Each value is a relative value relative to the overall average in the 30-year window. There are two more values beyond 2020 that is not shown in the histogram. These are 57%, and 61%, so against the 30-year average, those two 3-year averages were drier than usual.

The above shows the underlying variability of the 3-year averages inside the reference time window. We have to first define "normal", and that might be a value between 70% and 130%.

In the same way, we can establish the "normal" range for the entire state of California. If it's also 70% to 130%, then the last 3 years as shown in the map above should be considered normal.

 

 

The blue mist

The New York Times printed several charts about Twitter "blue checks," and they aren't one of their best efforts (link).

Blue checks used to be credentials given to legitimate accounts, typically associated with media outlets, celebrities, brands, professors, etc. They are free but must be approved by Twitter. Since Elon Musk acquired Twitter, he turned blue checks into a revenue generator. Yet another subscription service (but you're buying "freedom"!). Anyone can get a blue check for US$8 per month.

[The charts shown here are scanned from the printed edition.]

The first chart is a scatter plot showing the day of joining Twitter and the total number of followers the account has as of early November, 2022. Those are very strange things to pair up on a scatter plot but I get it: the designer could only work with the data that can be pulled down from Twitter's API.

What's wrong with the data? It would seem the interesting question is whether blue checks are associated with number of followers. The chart shows only Twitter Blue users so there is nothing to compare to. The day of joining Twitter is not the day of becoming "Twitter Blue", almost surely not for any user (Nevetheless, the former is not a standard data element released by Twitter). The chart has a built-in time bias since the longer an account exists, one would assume the higher the number of followers (assuming all else equal). Some kind of follower rate (e.g. number of followers per year of existence) might be more informative.

Still, it's hard to know what the chart is saying. That most Blue accounts have fewer than 5,000 followers? I also suspect that they chopped off the top of the chart (outliers) and forgot to mention it. Surely, some of the celebrity accounts have way over 150,000 followers. Another sign that the top of the chart was removed is that an expected funnel effect is not seen. Given the follower count is cumulative from the day of registration, we'd expect the accounts that started in the last few months should have markedly lower counts than those created years ago. (This is even more true if there is a survivorship bias - less successful accounts are more likely to be deleted over time.)

The designer arbitrarily labelled six specific accounts ("Crypto influencer", "HBO fan", etc.) but this feature risks sending readers the wrong message. There might be one HBO fan account that quickly grew to 150,000 followers in just a few months but does the data label suggest to readers that HBO fan accounts as a group tend to quickly attain high number of followers?

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The second chart, which is an inset of the first, attempts to quantify the effect of the Musk acquisition on the number of "registrations and subscriptions". In the first chart, the story was described as "Elon Musk buys Twitter sparking waves of new users who later sign up for Twitter Blue".

The second chart confuses me. I was trying to figure out what is counted in the vertical axis. This was before I noticed the inset in the first chart, easy to miss as it is tucked into the lower right corner. I had presumed that the axis would be the same as in the first chart since there weren't any specific labels. In that case, I am looking at accounts with 0 to 500 followers, pretty inconsequential accounts. Then, the chart title uses the words "registrations and subscriptions." If the blue dots on this chart also refer to blue-check accounts as in the first chart, then I fail to see how this chart conveys any information about registrations (wbich presumably would include free accounts). As before, new accounts that aren't blue checks won't appear.

Further, to the extent that this chart shows a surge in subscriptions, we are restricted to accounts with fewer than 500 followers, and it's really unclear what proportion of total subscribers is depicted. Nor is it possible to estimate the magnitude of this surge.

Besides, I'm seeing similar densities of the dots across the entire time window between October 2021 and 2022. Perhaps the entire surge is hidden behind the black lines indicating the specific days when Musk announced and completed the acquisition, respectively. If the surge is hiding behind the black vertical lines, then this design manages to block the precise spots readers are supposed to notice.

Here is where we can use the self-sufficiency test. Imagine the same chart without the text. What story would you have learned from the graphical elements themselves? Not much, in my view.

***

The third chart isn't more insightful. This chart purportedly shows suspended accounts, only among blue-check accounts.

From what I could gather (and what I know about Twitter's API), the chart shows any Twitter Blue account that got suspended at any time. For example, all the black open circles occurring prior to October 27, 2022 represent suspensions by the previous management, and presumably have nothing to do with Elon Musk, or his decision to turn blue checks into a subscription product.

There appears to be a cluster of suspensions since Musk took over. I am not sure what that means. Certainly, it says he's not about "total freedom". Most of these suspended accounts have fewer than 50 followers, and only been around for a few weeks. And as before, I'm not sure why the analyst decided to focus on accounts with fewer than 500 followers.

What could have been? Given the number of suspended accounts are relatively small, an interesting analysis would be to form clusters of suspended accounts, and report on the change in what types of accounts got suspended before and after the change of management.

***

The online article (link) is longer, filling in some details missing from the printed edition.

There is one view that shows the larger accounts:

While more complete, this view isn't very helpful as the biggest accounts are located in the sparsest area of the chart. The data labels again pick out strange accounts like those of adult film stars and an Arabic news site. It's not clear if the designer is trying to tell us that most of Twitter Blue accounts belong to those categories.

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See here for commentary on other New York Times graphics.

 

 

 

 

Think twice before you spiral

After Nathan at FlowingData sang praises of the following chart, a debate ensued on Twitter as others dislike it.

The chart was printed in an opinion column in the New York Times (link).

I have found few uses for spiral charts, and this example has not changed my mind.

The canonical time-series chart is like this:

 

***

The area chart takes no effort to understand. We can see when the peaks occurred. We notice that the current surge is already double the last peak seen a year ago.

It's instructive to trace how one gets from the simple area chart to the spiral chart.

Step 1 is to center the area on the zero baseline, instead of having the zero baseline as the baseline. While this technique frequently makes for a more pleasant visual (because of our preference for symmetry), it actually makes it harder to see the trend over time. Effectively, any change is split in half, which is why the envelope of the area is less sharp.

In Step 2, I massively compress the vertical scale. That's because when you plot a spiral, you are forced to fit each cycle of data into a much shorter range. Such compression causes the year on year doubling of cases to appear less dramatic. (Actually, the aspect ratio is devastated because while the vertical scale is hugely compressed, the horizontal scale is dramatically stretched out due to the curled up design)

Step 3 may elude your attention. If you simply curl up the compressed, centered area chart, you don't get the spiral chart. The key is to ask about the radius of the spiral. As best I can tell, the radius has no meaning; it is gradually increased so that each year of data has its own "orbit". What would the change in radius translate to on our non-circular chart? It should mean that the center of the area is gradually lifted away from the zero line. On the right chart, I mimic this effect (I only measured the change in radius every 3 months so the change is more angular than displayed in the spiral chart.) The problem I have with this Step is that it serves no purpose, while it complicates cognition,

In Step 4, just curl up the object into a ball based on aligning months of the year.

This is the point when I realized I missed a Step 2B. I carefully aligned the scales of both charts so that the 150K cases shown in the legend on the right have the same vertical representation as on the left. This exposes a severe horizontal rescaling. The length of the horizontal axis on the left chart is many times smaller than the circumference of the spiral! That's why earlier, I said one of the biggest feature of this spiral chart is that it imposes a dubious aspect ratio, that is extremely wide and extremely short.

As usual, think twice before you spiral.

 

 

Illustrating coronavirus waves with moving images

The New York Times put out a master class in visualizing space and time data recently, in a visualization of five waves of Covid-19 that have torched the U.S. thus far (link).

The project displays one dataset using three designs, which provides an opportunity to compare and contrast them.

***

The first design - above the headline - is an animated choropleth map. This is a straightforward presentation of space and time data. The level of cases in each county is indicated by color, dividing the country into 12 levels (plus unknown). Time is run forward. The time legend plays double duty as a line chart that shows the change in the weekly rate of reported cases over the course of the pandemic. A small piece of interactivity binds the legend with the map.

(To see a screen recording of the animation, click on the image above.)

***

The second design comprises six panels, snapshots that capture crucial "turning points" during the Covid-19 pandemic. The color of each county now encodes an average case rate (I hope they didn't just average the daily rates). 

The line-chart legend is gone -  it's not hard to see Winter > Fall 2020 > Summer/Fall 2021 >... so I don't think it's a big loss.

The small-multiples setup is particularly effective at facilitating comparisons: across time, and across space. It presents a story in pictures.

They may have left off 2020 following "Winter" because December to February spans both years but "Winter 2020" may do more benefit than harm here.

***

The third design is a series of short films, which stands mid-way between the single animated map and the six snapshots. Each movie covers a separate window of time.

This design does a better job telling the story within each time window while it obstructs comparisons across time windows.

The informative legend is back. This time, it's showing the static time window for each map.

***

The three designs come from the same dataset. I think of them as one long movie, six snapshots, and five short films.

The one long movie is a like a data dump. It shows every number in the dataset, which is the weekly case rate for each county for a given week. All the data are streamed into a single map. It's a show piece.

As an instrument to help readers understand the patterns in the dataset, the movie falls short. Too much is going on, making it hard to focus and pick out key trends. When your eyes are everywhere, they are nowhere.

The six snapshots represent the other extreme. The graph does not move, as the time axis is reduced to six discrete time points. But this display describes the change points, and tells a story. The long movie, by contrast, invites readers to find a story.

Without motion, the small-multiples format allows us to pick out specific counties or regions and compare the case rates across time. This task is close to impossible in the long movie, as it requires freezing the movie, and jumping back and forth.

The five short films may be the best of both worlds. It retains the motion. If the time windows are chosen wisely, each short film contains a few simple patterns that can easily be discerned. For example, the third film shows how the winter wave emerged from the midwest and then walloped the whole country, spreading southward and toward the coasts.

(If the above gif doesn't play, click it.)

***

If there is double or triple the time allocated to this project, I'd want to explore spatial clustering. I'd like to dampen the spatial noise (neighboring counties that have slightly different experiences). There is also temporal noise (fluctuations from week to week for the same county) - which can be smoothed away. I think with these statistical techniques, the "wave" feature of the pandemic may be more visible.

 

 

Probabilities and proportions: which one is the chart showing

The New York Times showed this chart (link):

My first read: oh my gosh, 40-50% of the unvaccinated Americans are living their normal lives - dining at restaurants, assembling with more than 10 people, going to religious gatherings.

After reading the text around this chart, I realize I have misinterpreted it.

The chart should be read by columns. Each column is a "pie chart". For example, the first column shows that half the restaurant diners are not vaccinated, a third are fully vaccinated, and the remainder are partially vaccinated. The other columns have roughly the same proportions.

The author says "The rates of vaccination among people doing these activities largely reflect the rates in the population." This line is perhaps more confusing than intended. What she's saying is that in the general population, half of us are unvaccinated, a third are fully unvaccinated, and the remainder are partially vaccinated.

Here's a picture:

What this chart is saying is that the people dining out is like a random sample from all Americans. So too the other groups depicted. What Americans are choosing to do is independent of their vaccination status.

Unvaccinated people are no less likely to be doing all these activities than the fully vaccinated. This raises the question: are half of the people not wearing masks outdoors unvaccinated?

***

Why did I read the chart wrongly in the first place? It has to do with expectations.

Most survey charts plot probabilities not proportions. I haphazardly grabbed the following Pew Research chart as an example:

From this chart, we learn that 30% of kids 9-11 years old uses TikTok compared to 11% of kids 5-8.  The percentages down a column do not sum to 100%.

 

These are the top posts of 2020

It's always very interesting as a writer to look back at a year's of posts and find out which ones were most popular with my readers.

Here are the top posts on Junk Charts from 2020:

How to read this chart about coronavirus risk

This post about a New York Times scatter plot dates from February, a time when many Americans were debating whether Covid-19 was just the flu.

Proportions and rates: we are no dupes

This post about a ArsTechnica chart on the effects of Covid-19 by age is an example of designing the visual to reflect the structure of the data.

When the pie chart is more complex than the data

This post shows a 3D pie chart which is worse than a 2D pie chart.

Twitter people upset with that Covid symptoms diagram

This post discusses some complicated graphics designed to illustrate complicated datasets on Covid-19 symptoms.

Cornell must remove the logs before it reopens in the fall

This post is another warning to think twice before you use log scales.

What is the price of objectivity?

This post turns an "objective" data visualization into a piece of visual story-telling.

The snake pit chart is the best election graphic ever

This post introduces my favorite U.S. presidential election graphic, designed by the FiveThirtyEight team.

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Here is a list of posts that deserve more attention:

Locating the political center

An example of bringing readers as close to the insights as possible

Visualizing change over time

An example of designing data visualization to reflect the structure of multivariate data

Bloomberg made me digest these graphics slowly

An example of simple and thoughtful graphics

The hidden bad assumption behind most dual-axis time-series charts

Read this before you make a dual-axis chart

Pie chart conventions

Read this before you make a pie chart

***
Looking forward to bring you more content in 2021!

Happy new year.

Convincing charts showing containment measures work

The disorganized nature of U.S.'s response to the coronavirus pandemic has created a sort of natural experiment that allows data journalists to explore important scientific questions, such as the impact of containment measures on cases and hospitalizations. This New York Times article represents the best of such work.

The key finding of the analysis is beautifully captured by this set of scatter plots:

Each dot is a state. The cases (left plot) and hospitalizations (right plot) are plotted against the severity of containment measures for November. The negative correlation is unmistakable: the more containment measures taken, the lower the counts.

There are a few features worth noting.

The severity index came from a group at Oxford, and is a number between 0 and 100. The journalists decided to leave out the numerical labels, instead simply showing More and Fewer. This significantly reduces processing time. Readers won't be able to understand the index values anyway without reading the manual.

The index values are doubly encoded. They are first encoded by the location on the horizontal axis and redundantly encoded on the blue-red scale. Ordinarily, I do not like redundant encoding because the reader might assume a third dimension exists. In this case, I had no trouble with it.

The easiest way to see the effect is to ignore the muddy middle and focus on the two ends of the severity index. Those states with the fewest measures - South Dakota, North Dakota, Iowa - are the worst in cases and hospitalizations while those states with the most measures - New York, Hawaii - are among the best. This comparison is similar to what is frequently done in scientific studies, e.g. when they say coffee is good for you, they typically compare heavy drinkers (4 or more cups a day) with non-drinkers, ignoring the moderate and light drinkers.

Notably, there is quite a bit of variability for any level of containment measures - roughly 50 cases per 100,000, and 25 hospitalizations per 100,000. This indicates that containment measures are not sufficient to explain the counts. For example, the hospitalization statistic is affected by the stock of hospital beds, which I assume differ by state.

Whenever we use a scatter plot, we run the risk of xyopia. This chart form invites readers to explain an outcome (y-axis values) using one explanatory variable (on x-axis). There is an assumption that all other variables are unimportant, which is usually false.

***

Because of the variability, the horizontal scale has meaningless precision. The next chart cures this by grouping the states into three categories: low, medium and high level of measures.

This set of charts extends the time window back to March 1. For the designer, this creates a tricky problem - because states adapt their policies over time. As indicated in the subtitle, the grouping is based on the average severity index since March, rather than just November, as in the scatter plots above.

***

The interplay between policy and health indicators is captured by connected scatter plots, of which the Times article included a few examples. Here is what happened in New York:

Up until April, the policies were catching up with the cases. The policies tightened even after the case-per-capita started falling. Then, policies eased a little, and cases started to spike again.

The Note tells us that the containment severity index is time shifted to reflect a two-week lag in effect. So, the case count on May 1 is not paired with the containment severity index of May 1 but of April 15.

***

You can find the full article here.

 

 

 

Deaths as percent neither of cases nor of population. Deaths as percent of normal.

Yesterday, I posted a note about excess deaths on the book blog (link). The post was inspired by a nice data visualization by the New York Times (link). This is a great example of data journalism.

Excess deaths is a superior metric for measuring the effect of Covid-19 on public health. It's better than deaths as percent of cases. Also better than percent of the population.What excess deaths measure is deaths as a percent of normal. Normal is usually defined as the average deaths in the respective week in years past.

The red areas indicate how far the deaths in the Southern states are above normal. The highest peak, registered in Texas in late July, is 60 percent above the normal level.

***

The best way to appreciate the effort that went into this graphic is to imagine receiving the outputs from the model that computes excess deaths. A three-column spreadsheet with columns "state", "week number" and "estimated excess deaths".

The first issue is unequal population sizes. More populous states of course have higher death tolls. Transforming death tolls to an index pegged to the normal level solves this problem. To produce this index, we divide actual deaths by the normal level of deaths. So the spreadsheet must be augmented by two additional columns, showing the historical average deaths and actual deaths for each state for each week. Then, the excess death index can be computed.

The journalist builds a story around the migration of the coronavirus between different regions as it rages across different states  during different weeks. To this end, the designer first divides the dataset into four regions (South, West, Midwest and Northeast). Within each region, the states must be ordered. For each state, the week of peak excess deaths is identified, and the peak index is used to sort the states.

The graphic utilizes a small-multiples framework. Time occupies the horizontal axis, by convention. The vertical axis is compressed so that the states are not too distant. For the same reason, the component graphs are allowed to overlap vertically. The benefit of the tight arrangement is clearer for the Northeast as those peaks are particularly tall. The space-saving appearance reminds me of sparklines, championed by Ed Tufte.

There is one small tricky problem. In most of June, Texas suffered at least 50 percent more deaths than normal. The severity of this excess death toll is shortchanged by the low vertical height of each component graph. What forced such congestion is probably the data from the Northeast. For example, New York City:

 

New York City's death toll was almost 8 times the normal level at the start of the epidemic in the U.S. If the same vertical scale is maintained across the four regions, then the Northeastern states dwarf all else.

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One key takeaway from the graphic for the Southern states is the persistence of the red areas. In each state, for almost every week of the entire pandemic period, actual deaths have exceeded the normal level. This is strong indication that the coronavirus is not under control.

In fact, I'd like to see a second set of plots showing the cumulative excess deaths since March. The weekly graphic is better for identifying the ebb and flow while the cumulative graphic takes measure of the total impact of Covid-19.

***

The above description leaves out a huge chunk of work related to computing excess deaths. I assumed the designer receives these estimates from a data scientist. See the related post in which I explain how excess deaths are estimated from statistical models.

 

Designs of two variables: map, dot plot, line chart, table

The New York Times found evidence that the richest segments of New Yorkers, presumably those with second or multiple homes, have exited the Big Apple during the early months of the pandemic. The article (link) is amply assisted by a variety of data graphics.

The first few charts represent different attempts to express the headline message. Their appearance in the same article allows us to assess the relative merits of different chart forms.

First up is the always-popular map.

The advantage of a map is its ease of comprehension. We can immediately see which neighborhoods experienced the greater exoduses. Clearly, Manhattan has cleared out a lot more than outer boroughs.

The limitation of the map is also in view. With the color gradient dedicated to the proportions of residents gone on May 1st, there isn't room to express which neighborhoods are richer. We have to rely on outside knowledge to make the correlation ourselves.

The second attempt is a dot plot.

We may have to take a moment to digest the horizontal axis. It's not time moving left to right but income percentiles. The poorest neighborhoods are to the left and the richest to the right. I'm assuming that these percentiles describe the distribution of median incomes in neighborhoods. Typically, when we see income percentiles, they are based on households, regardless of neighborhoods. (The former are equal-sized segments, unlike the latter.)

This data graphic has the reverse features of the map. It does a great job correlating the drop in proportion of residents at home with the income distribution but it does not convey any spatial information. The message is clear: The residents in the top 10% of New York neighborhoods are much more likely to have left town.

In the following chart, I attempted a different labeling of both axes. It cuts out the need for readers to reverse being home to not being home, and 90th percentile to top 10%.

The third attempt to convey the income--exit relationship is the most successful in my mind. This is a line chart, with time on the horizontal axis.

The addition of lines relegates the dots to the background. The lines show the trend more clearly. If directly translated from the dot plot, this line chart should have 100 lines, one for each percentile. However, the closeness of the top two lines suggests that no meaningful difference in behavior exists between the 20th and 80th percentiles. This can be conveyed to readers through a short note. Instead of displaying all 100 percentiles, the line chart selectively includes only the 99th , 95th, 90th, 80th and 20th percentiles. This is a design choice that adds by subtraction.

Along the time axis, the line chart provides more granularity than either the map or the dot plot. The exit occurred roughly over the last two weeks of March and the first week of April. The start coincided with New York's stay-at-home advisory.

This third chart is a statistical graphic. It does not bring out the raw data but features aggregated and smoothed data designed to reveal a key message.

I encourage you to also study the annotated table later in the article. It shows the power of a well-designed table.

[P.S. 6/4/2020. On the book blog, I have just published a post about the underlying surveillance data for this type of analysis.]

 

 

How to read this chart about coronavirus risk

In my just-published Long Read article at DataJournalism.com, I touched upon the subject of "How to Read this Chart".

Most data graphics do not come with directions of use because dataviz designers follow certain conventions. We do not need to tell you, for example, that time runs left to right on the horizontal axis (substitute right to left for those living in right-to-left countries). It's when we deviate from the norms that calls for a "How to Read this Chart" box.

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A discussion over Twitter during the weekend on the following New York Times chart perfectly illustrates this issue. (The article is well worth reading to educate oneself on this red-hot public-health issue. I made some comments on the sister blog about the data a few days ago.)

Reading this chart, I quickly grasp that the horizontal axis is the speed of infection and the vertical axis represents the deadliness. Without being told, I used the axis labels (and some of you might notice the annotations with the arrows on the top right.) But most people will likely miss - at a glance - that the vertical axis utilizes a log scale while the horizontal axis is linear (regular).

The effect of a log scale is to pull the large numbers toward the average while spreading the smaller numbers apart - when compared to a linear scale. So when we look at the top of the coronavirus box, it appears that this virus could be as deadly as SARS.

The height of the pink box is 3.9, while the gap between the top edge of the box and the SARS dot is 6. Yet our eyes tell us the top edge is closer to the SARS dot than it is to the bottom edge!

There is nothing inaccurate about this chart - the log scale introduces such distortion. The designer has to make a choice.

Indeed, there were two camps on Twitter, arguing for and against the log scale.

***

I use log scales a lot in analyzing data, but tend not to use log scales in a graph. It's almost a given that using the log scale requires a "How to Read this Chart" message. And the NY Times crew delivers!

Right below the chart is a paragraph:

To make this even more interesting, the horizontal axis is a hidden "log" scale. That's because infections spread exponentially. Even though the scale is not labeled "log", think as if the large values have been pulled toward the middle.

Here is an over-simplified way to see this. A disease that spreads at a rate of fifteen people at a time is not 3 times worse than one that spreads five at a time. In the former case, the first sick person transmits it to 15, and then each of the 15 transmits the flu to 15 others, thus after two steps, 241 people have been infected (225 + 15 + 1). In latter case, it's 5x5 + 5 + 1 = 31 infections after two steps. So at this point, the number of infected is already 8 times worse, not 3 times. And the gap keeps widening with each step.

P.S. See also my post on the sister blog that digs deeper into the metrics.