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Fourth edition
in Psychology
Dennis Howitt & Duncan Cramer
Introduction to Research Methods in Psychology
Introduction to
Research Methods
in Psychology
Fourth Edition
The rights of Dennis Howitt and Duncan Cramer to be identified as authors of this work have been asserted by them
in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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EC1N 8TS.
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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
18 17 16 15 14
NOTE THAT ANY PAGE CROSS REFERENCES REFER TO THE PRINT EDITION
Brief contents
Contents vii
Guided tour xvi
Introduction xviii
Acknowledgements xx
Glossary 483
References 490
Index 498
Contents
15 Reliability and validity: Evaluating the value of tests and measures 305
Overview 305
15.1 Introduction 306
15.2 Reliability of measures 308
15.3 Validity 311
15.4 Types of validity 312
15.5 Conclusion 320
Key points 321
Activity 321
Glossary 483
References 490
Index 498
Companion Website ON THE
WEBSITE
For open-access student resources specifically written
to complement this textbook and support your learning,
please visit www.pearsoned.co.uk/howitt
Guided tour
138 PART 1 THE BASICS OF RESEARCH
mind then its title and author will quickly help you discover where it is located in the
ChapTer 1 library. However, if you are simply searching with a general keyword such as ‘memory’
or ‘intelligence’ then you are likely to find more entries or hits – perhaps too many.
Sometimes it may be quicker to go to the section of the library where items with par-
ticular keywords are likely to be held, though this is less systematic and others on the
Practical Advice
290 PART 3 FUNDAMENTALS OF TESTING AND MEASUREMENT
individual (since an elderly person may have fewer friends simply as a consequence of
bereavements), and so forth. In short, there are problems in turning a concept into a
Gives you handy hints and tips on how to carry out
measure of that variable. This does not mean that the question is useless as a measure
●
of the concept, merely that it is not a particularly accurate measure.
Variables do not exist in some sort of rarefied form in the real world. They are notions
research in practice
which psychologists and other researchers find extremely useful in trying to understand
people. So sometimes it will appear appropriate to a researcher to measure a range of
things which seem closely related. For example, loneliness might be considered to
involve a range of aspects – few friendships, feelings of isolation, no social support,
geographical isolation and so forth.
Once a pool of items for potential inclusion has been developed, the next stage is to
administer the first draft of the test to a suitable sample of individuals that is as substantial
as possible. Advice on how to formulate questions is to be found in Box 14.1. Let us
name of the author is given first, followed by the year in which the reference was pub-
lished. After this comes the title of the work. Like most research in psychology, Byrne’s
study was published in a journal. The title of the journal is given next, together with the
number of the volume in which the article appeared and the numbers of the first and last
pages of the article. These references are generally listed alphabetically according to the
last name of the first author in a reference list at the end of the journal article or book.
Where there is more than one reference by the same author or authors, they will be listed
according to the year the work was presented. This is known as the Harvard system or
author–date system. It is described in much more detail later in this part of the book in
the chapters about writing a research report (Chapters 5 and 6). We will cite references
in this way in this book. However, we will cite very few references compared with psy-
chology texts on other subjects, as many of the ideas we are presenting have been previ-
ously summarised by other authors (although usually not in the same way) and have
been generally accepted for many years.
Many of the references cited in lectures or textbooks are to reports of research that
has been carried out to examine a particular question or small set of questions. Research
studies have to be selective and restricted in their scope – it is impossible to design a
study to study everything. As already indicated, the prime location for the publication of
research is journals. Journals consist of volumes which are usually published every year.
Each volume typically comprises a number of issues or parts that come out say every
three months, but this is variable. The papers or articles that make up an issue are prob-
ably no more than 4000 or 5000 words in length, though it is not uncommon to find
some of them 10 000 words long. Their shortness necessitates their being written con-
cisely. As a consequence, they are not always easy to read and often require careful study
in order to master them. An important aim of this book is to provide you with the basic
knowledge which is required to read these papers – and even to write them. Often there
appear to be obstacles in the way of doing the necessary reading. For example, there are
many different psychology journals – too many for individual libraries to stock – so they
subscribe to a limited number of them. If the reference that you are interested in is
important and is not available locally, then you may be able to obtain it from another
library, or it may be worth trying to obtain a copy (usually called offprints) from the
author. Almost invariably, nowadays, university libraries subscribe to digital versions
of journals, so many papers are readily available in electronic files (usually in Portable
Digital Format, pdf) which can be easily accessed via your university library over the
Internet and then even circulated to others as an e-mail attachment. The chapter on
searching the literature (Chapter 7) suggests how you can access publications which are
not held in your own library. The point of this means that often you can download to
your computer articles which otherwise would not be available at your university. This
is remarkably convenient and there are no overdue fines.
One of the positive things about psychology is that you may have questions about a
topic that have not been addressed in lectures or textbooks. For example, you may won-
der whether attraction to someone depends on the nature of the particular attitudes that
are shared. Are some attitudes more important than others and, if so, what are these?
If you begin to ask questions like these while you are reading something then this is
excellent. It is the sort of intellectual curiosity required to become a good researcher.
Furthermore, as you develop through your studies, you probably will want to know
what the latest thinking and research are on the topic. If you are interested in a topic,
then wanting to know what other people are thinking about it is only natural. Your
lecturers will certainly be pleased if you do. There is a great deal to be learnt about how
one goes about finding out what is happening in any academic discipline. Being able to
discover what is currently happening and what has happened in a field of research is a
vitally important skill. The chapter on searching the literature (Chapter 7) discusses how
we go about searching for the current publications on a topic.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
smoothbore, his mother a pair of the famous La Roche dueling
pistols and a prayer book. The family priest gave him a rosary and
cross and enjoined him to pray frequently. Traveling all summer, they
arrived at Lake Winnipeg in the autumn and wintered there. As soon
as the ice went out in the spring the journey was continued and one
afternoon in July, Monroe beheld Mountain Fort, a new post of the
company’s not far from the Rocky Mountains.
“Around about it were encamped thousands of Blackfeet waiting
to trade for the goods the flotilla had brought up and to obtain on
credit ammunition, fukes (trade guns), traps and tobacco. As yet the
company had no Blackfoot interpreter. The factor perceiving that
Monroe was a youth of more than ordinary intelligence at once
detailed him to live and travel with the Piegans (a Blackfoot tribe)
and learn their language, also to see that they returned to Mountain
Fort with their furs the succeeding summer. Word had been received
that, following the course of Lewis and Clarke, American traders
were yearly pushing farther and farther westward and had even
reached the mouth of the Yellowstone. The company feared their
competition. Monroe was to do his best to prevent it.
“‘At last,’ Monroe told me, ‘the day came for our departure, and I
set out with the chiefs and medicine men at the head of the long
procession. There were eight hundred lodges of the Piegans there,
about eight thousand souls. They owned thousands of horses. Oh,
but it was a grand sight to see that long column of riders and pack
animals, and loose horses trooping over the plains. We traveled on
southward all the long day, and about an hour or two before
sundown we came to the rim of a valley through which flowed a
cotton wood-bordered stream. We dismounted at the top of the hill,
and spread our robes intending to sit there until the procession
passed by into the bottom and put up the lodges. A medicine man
produced a large stone pipe, filled it and attempted to light it with flint
and steel and a bit of punk (rotten wood), but somehow he could get
no spark. I motioned him to hand it to me, and drawing my sunglass
from my pocket, I got the proper focus and set the tobacco afire,
drawing several mouthfuls of smoke through the long stem.
“‘As one man all those round about sprang to their feet and
rushed toward me, shouting and gesticulating as if they had gone
crazy. I also jumped up, terribly frightened, for I thought they were
going to do me harm, perhaps kill me. The pipe was wrenched out of
my grasp by the chief himself, who eagerly began to smoke and
pray. He had drawn but a whiff or two when another seized it, and
from him it was taken by still another. Others turned and harangued
the passing column; men and women sprang from their horses and
joined the group, mothers pressing close and rubbing their babes
against me, praying earnestly meanwhile. I recognized a word that I
had already learned—Natos—Sun—and suddenly the meaning of
the commotion became clear; they thought that I was Great
Medicine; that I had called upon the Sun himself to light the pipe,
and that he had done so. The mere act of holding up my hand above
the pipe was a supplication to their God. They had perhaps not
noticed the glass, or if they had, had thought it some secret charm or
amulet. At all events I had suddenly become a great personage, and
from then on the utmost consideration and kindness was accorded to
me.
“‘When I entered Lone Walker’s lodge that evening—he was the
chief, and my host—I was greeted by deep growls from either side of
the doorway, and was horrified to see two nearly grown grizzly bears
acting as if about to spring upon me. I stopped and stood quite still,
but I believe that my hair was rising; I know that my flesh felt to be
shrinking. I was not kept in suspense. Lone Walker spoke to his pets,
and they immediately lay down, noses between their paws, and I
passed on to the place pointed out to me, the first couch at the
chief’s left hand. It was some time before I became accustomed to
the bears, but we finally came to a sort of understanding with one
another. They ceased growling at me as I passed in and out of the
lodge, but would never allow me to touch them, bristling up and
preparing to fight if I attempted to do so. In the following spring they
disappeared one night and were never seen again.’
“Think how the youth, Rising Wolf, must have felt as he
journeyed southward over the vast plains, and under the shadow of
the giant mountains which lie between the Saskatchewan and the
Missouri, for he knew that he was the first of his race to behold
them.” We were born a little too late!
“Monroe often referred to that first trip with the Piegans as the
happiest time of his life.”
In the moon of falling leaves they came to Pile of Rocks River,
and after three months went on to winter on Yellow River. Next
summer they wandered down the Musselshell, crossed the Big River
and thence westward by way of the Little Rockies and the Bear Paw
Mountains to the Marias. Even paradise has its geography.
“Rifle and pistol were now useless as the last rounds of powder
and ball had been fired. But what mattered that? Had they not their
bows and great sheaves of arrows? In the spring they had planted
on the banks of the Judith a large patch of their own tobacco which
they would harvest in due time.
“One by one young Rising Wolf’s garments were worn out and
cast aside. The women of the lodge tanned deerskins and bighorn
(sheep) and from them Lone Walker himself cut and sewed shirts
and leggings, which he wore in their place. It was not permitted for
women to make men’s clothing. So ere long he was dressed in full
Indian costume, even to the belt and breech-clout, and his hair grew
so that it fell in rippling waves down over his shoulders.” A warrior
never cut his hair, so white men living with Indians followed their
fashion, else they were not admitted to rank as warriors. “He began
to think of braiding it. Ap-ah’-ki, the shy young daughter of the chief,
made his footwear—thin parfleche (arrow-proof)—soled moccasins
(skin-shoes) for summer, beautifully embroidered with colored
porcupine quills; thick, soft warm ones of buffalo robe for winter.
“‘I could not help but notice her,’ he said, ‘on the first night I
stayed in her father’s lodge.... I learned the language easily, quickly,
yet I never spoke to her nor she to me, for, as you know, the
Blackfeet think it unseemly for youths and maidens to do so.
“‘One evening a man came into the lodge and began to praise a
certain youth with whom I had often hunted; spoke of his bravery, his
kindness, his wealth, and ended by saying that the young fellow
presented to Lone Walker thirty horses, and wished, with Ap-ah’-ki,
to set up a lodge of his own. I glanced at the girl and caught her
looking at me; such a look! expressing at once fear, despair and
something else which I dared not believe I interpreted aright. The
chief spoke: “Tell your friend,” he said, “that all you have spoken of
him is true; I know that he is a real man, a good, kind, brave,
generous young man, yet for all that I can not give him my daughter.”
“‘Again I looked at Ap-ah’-ki and she at me. Now she was smiling
and there was happiness in her eyes. But if she smiled I could not. I
had heard him refuse thirty head of horses. What hope had I then,
who did not even own the horse I rode? I, who received for my
services only twenty pounds a year, from which must be deducted
the various articles I bought. Surely the girl was not for me. I
suffered.
“‘It was a little later, perhaps a couple of weeks, that I met her in
the trail, bringing home a bundle of fire-wood. We stopped and
looked at each other in silence for a moment, and then I spoke her
name. Crash went the fuel on the ground, and we embraced and
kissed regardless of those who might be looking.
“‘So, forgetting the bundle of wood, we went hand in hand and
stood before Lone Walker, where he sat smoking his long pipe, out
on the shady side of the lodge.
“‘The chief smiled. “Why, think you, did I refuse the thirty
horses?” he asked, and before I could answer: “Because I wanted
you for my son-in-law, wanted a white man because he is more
cunning, much wiser than the Indian, and I need a counselor. We
have not been blind, neither I nor my women. There is nothing more
to say except this: be good to her.”
“‘That very day they set up a small lodge for us, and stored it
with robes and parfleches of dried meat and berries, gave us one of
their two brass kettles, tanned skins, pack saddles, ropes, all that a
lodge should contain. And, not least, Lone Walker told me to choose
thirty horses from his large herd. In the evening we took possession
of our house and were happy.’
“Monroe remained in the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company
a number of years, raising a large family of boys and girls, most of
whom are alive to-day. The oldest, John, is about seventy-five years
of age, but still young enough to go to the Rockies near his home
every autumn, and kill a few bighorn and elk, and trap a few beavers.
The old man never revisited his home; never saw his parents after
they parted with him at the Montreal docks. He intended to return to
them for a brief visit some time, but kept deferring it, and then came
letters two years old to say that they were both dead. Came also a
letter from an attorney, saying that they had bequeathed him a
considerable property, that he must go to Montreal and sign certain
papers in order to take possession of it. At the time the factor of
Mountain Fort was going to England on leave; to him, in his simple
trustfulness Monroe gave a power of attorney in the matter. The
factor never returned, and by virtue of the papers he had signed the
frontiersman lost his inheritance. But that was a matter of little
moment to him then. Had he not a lodge and family, good horses
and a vast domain actually teeming with game wherein to wander?
What more could one possibly want?
“Leaving the Hudson’s Bay Company, Monroe sometimes
worked for the American Fur Company, but mostly as a free trapper,
wandered from the Saskatchewan to the Yellowstone and from the
Rockies to Lake Winnipeg. The headwaters of the South
Saskatchewan were one of his favorite hunting grounds. Thither in
the early fifties he guided the noted Jesuit Father, De Smet, and at
the foot of the beautiful lakes just south of Chief Mountain they
erected a huge wooden cross and named the two bodies of water
Saint Mary’s Lakes.” Here the Canada and United States boundary
climbs the Rocky Mountains.
“One winter after his sons John and François had married they
were camping there for the season, the three lodges of the family,
when one night a large war party of Assiniboins attacked them. The
daughters Lizzie, Amelia and Mary had been taught to shoot, and
together they made a brave resistance, driving the Indians away just
before daylight, with the loss of five of their number, Lizzie killing one
of them as he was about to let down the bars of the horse corral.
“Besides other furs, beaver, fisher, marten and wolverine, they
killed more than three hundred wolves that winter by a device so
unique, yet simple, that it is well worth recording. By the banks of the
outlet of the lakes they built a long pen twelve by sixteen feet at the
base, and sloping sharply inward and upward to a height of seven
feet. The top of the pyramid was an opening about two feet six
inches wide by eight feet in length. Whole deer, quarters of buffalo,
any kind of meat handy was thrown into the pen, and the wolves,
scenting the flesh and blood, seeing it plainly through the four to six
inch spaces between the logs would eventually climb to the top and
jump down through the opening. But they could not jump out, and
there morning would find them uneasily pacing around and around in
utter bewilderment.
“You will remember that the old man was a Catholic, yet I know
that he had much faith in the Blackfoot religion, and believed in the
efficiency of the medicine-man’s prayers and mysteries. He used
often to speak of the terrible power possessed by a man named Old
Sun. ‘There was one,’ he would say, ‘who surely talked with the
gods, and was given some of their mysterious power. Sometimes of
a dark night he would invite a few of us to his lodge, when all was
calm and still. After all were seated his wives would bank the fire with
ashes so that it was as dark within as without, and he would begin to
pray. First to the Sun-chief, then to the wind maker, the thunder and
the lightning. As he prayed, entreating them to come and do his will,
first the lodge ears would begin to quiver with the first breath of a
coming breeze, which gradually grew stronger and stronger till the
lodge bent to the blasts, and the lodge poles strained and creaked.
Then thunder began to boom, faint and far away, and lightning dimly
to blaze, and they came nearer and nearer until they seemed to be
just overhead; the crashes deafened us, the flashes blinded us, and
all were terror-stricken. Then this wonderful man would pray them to
go, and the wind would die down, and the thunder and lightning go
on rumbling and flashing into the far distance until we heard and saw
them no more.’”
LIII
A. D. 1819
SIMON BOLIVAR
FAR back in the long ago time New Zealand was a crowded happy
land. Big Maori fortress villages crowned the hilltops, broad farms
covered the hillsides; the chiefs kept a good table, cooking was
excellent, and especially when prisoners were in season, the people
feasted between sleeps, or, should provisions fail, sacked the next
parish for a supply of meat. So many parishes were sacked and
eaten, that in the course of time the chiefs led their tribes to quite a
distance before they could find a nice fat edible village, but still the
individual citizen felt crowded after meals, and all was well.
Then came the Pakehas, the white men, trading, with muskets
for sale, and the tribe that failed to get a trader to deal with was very
soon wiped out. A musket cost a ton of flax, and to pile up enough to
buy one a whole tribe must leave its hill fortress to camp in
unwholesome flax swamps. The people worked themselves thin to
buy guns, powder and iron tools for farming, but they cherished their
Pakeha as a priceless treasure in special charge of the chief, and if a
white man was eaten, it was clear proof that he was entirely useless
alive, or a quite detestable character. The good Pakehas became
Maori warriors, a little particular as to their meat being really pig, but
otherwise well mannered and popular.
Now of these Pakeha Maoris, one has left a book. He omitted his
name from the book of Old New Zealand, and never mentioned
dates, but tradition says he was Mr. F. C. Maning, and that he lived
as a Maori and trader for forty years, from 1823 to 1863 when the
work was published.
In the days when Mr. Maning reached the North Island a trader
was valued at twenty times his weight in muskets, equivalent say, to
the sum total of the British National Debt. Runaway sailors however,
were quite cheap. “Two men of this description were hospitably
entertained one night by a chief, a very particular friend of mine,
who, to pay himself for his trouble and outlay, ate one of them next
morning.”
Maning came ashore on the back of a warrior by the name of
Melons, who capsized in an ebb tide running like a sluice, at which
the white man, displeased, held the native’s head under water by
way of punishment. When they got ashore Melons wanted to get
even, so challenged the Pakeha to a wrestling match. Both were in
the pink of condition, the Maori, twenty-five years of age, and a
heavy-weight, the other a boy full of animal spirits and tough as
leather. After the battle Melons sat up rather dazed, offered his hand,
and venting his entire stock of English, said “How do you do?”
But then came a powerful chief, by name Relation-eater. “Pretty
work this,” he began, “good work. I won’t stand this not at all! not at
all! not at all!” (The last sentence took three jumps, a step and a turn
round, to keep correct time.) “Who killed the Pakeha? It was Melons.
You are a nice man, killing my Pakeha ... we shall be called the
‘Pakeha killkillers’; I shall be sick with shame; the Pakeha will run
away; what if you had killed him dead, or broken his bones”.... (Here
poor Melones burst out crying like an infant). “Where is the hat?
Where the shoes? The Pakeha is robbed! he is murdered!” Here a
wild howl from Melons.
The local trader took Mr. Maning to live with him, but it was
known to the tribes that the newcomer really and truly belonged to
Relation-eater. Not long had he been settled when there occurred a
meeting between his tribe and another, a game of bluff, when the
warriors of both sides danced the splendid Haka, most blood-
curdling, hair-lifting of all ceremonials. Afterward old Relation-eater
singled out the horrible savage who had begun the war-dance, and
these two tender-hearted individuals for a full half-hour, seated on
the ground hanging on each other’s necks, gave vent to a chorus of
skilfully modulated howling. “So there was peace,” and during the
ceremonies Maning came upon a circle of what seemed to be Maori
chiefs, until drawing near he found that their nodding heads had
nobody underneath. Raw heads had been stuck on slender rods,
with cross sticks to carry the robes, “Looking at the ’eds, sir?” asked
an English sailor. “’Eds was werry scarce—they had to tattoo a slave
a bit ago, and the villain ran away, tattooin’ and all!”
“What!”
“Bolted before he was fit to kill,” said the sailor, mournful to think
how dishonest people could be.
Once the head chief, having need to punish a rebellious vassal,
sent Relation-eater, who plundered and burned the offending village.
The vassal decamped with his tribe.
“Well, about three months after this, about daylight I was
aroused by a great uproar.... Out I ran at once and perceived that M
—’s premises were being sacked by the rebellious vassal who ...
was taking this means of revenging himself for the rough handling he
had received from our chief. Men were rushing in mad haste through
the smashed windows and doors, loaded with everything they could
lay hands upon.... A large canoe was floating near to the house, and
was being rapidly filled with plunder. I saw a fat old Maori woman
who was washerwoman, being dragged along the ground by a huge
fellow who was trying to tear from her grasp one of my shirts, to
which she clung with perfect desperation. I perceived at a glance
that the faithful old creature would probably save a sleeve.
“An old man-of-war’s man defending his washing, called out, ‘Hit
out, sir! ... our mob will be here in five minutes!’
“The odds were terrible, but ... I at once floored a native who was
rushing by me.... I then perceived that he was one of our own people
... so to balance things I knocked down another! and then felt myself
seized round the waist from behind.
“The old sailor was down now but fighting three men at once,
while his striped shirt and canvas trousers still hung proudly on the
fence.
“Then came our mob to the rescue and the assailants fled.
“Some time after this a little incident worth noting happened at
my friend M—’s place. Our chief had for some time back a sort of
dispute with another magnate.... The question was at last brought to
a fair hearing at my friend’s house. The arguments on both sides
were very forcible; so much so that in the course of the arbitration
our chief and thirty of his principal witnesses were shot dead in a
heap before my friend’s door, and sixty others badly wounded, and
my friend’s house and store blown up and burnt to ashes.
“My friend was, however, consoled by hundreds of friends who
came in large parties to condole with him, and who, as was quite
correct in such cases, shot and ate all his stock, sheep, pigs, ducks,
geese, fowls, etc., all in high compliment to himself; he felt proud....
He did not, however, survive these honors long.”
Mr. Maning took this poor gentleman’s place as trader, and
earnestly studied native etiquette, on which his comments are
always deliciously funny. Two young Australians were his guests
when there arrived one day a Maori desperado who wanted
blankets; and “to explain his views more clearly knocked both my
friends down, threatened to kill them both with his tomahawk, then
rushed into the bedroom, dragged out all the bedclothes, and burnt
them on the kitchen fire.”
A few weeks later, Mr. Maning being alone, and reading a year-
old Sydney paper, the desperado called. “‘Friend,’ said I; ‘my advice
to you is to be off.’
“He made no answer but a scowl of defiance. ‘I am thinking,
friend, that this is my house,’ said I, and springing upon him I placed
my foot to his shoulder, and gave him a shove which would have
sent most people heels over head.... But quick as lightning ... he
bounded from the ground, flung his mat away over his head, and
struck a furious blow at my head with his tomahawk. I caught the
tomahawk in full descent; the edge grazed my hand; but my arm,
stiffened like a bar of iron, arrested the blow. He made one furious,
but ineffectual attempt to wrest the tomahawk from my grasp; and
then we seized one another round the middle, and struggled like
maniacs in the endeavor to dash each other against the boarded