In 1980, a couple of researchers asked children between the ages of five and seven a number of nonsensical questions. For instance, “Is red heavier than yellow?” and “Is a jumper angrier than a tree?” The purpose of this line of inquiry was to determine whether children would object to the stupid questions or simply answer them.
They just answered them. Later studies replicated these results. Kids were willing to say that the jumper was angrier, or whatever, and then move on. They didn’t have to understand what was being asked in order to provide an answer.
More than two decades later, in 2001, another group of researchers replicated that study, asking kids similarly silly questions. They again found that the kids answered them. But along with yes-or-no questions, they also asked open-ended questions like “What do feet have for breakfast?” and found that the kids either said they didn’t know or that they didn’t understand the question. Researchers surmised that because yes-or-no responses are easy, kids were willing to respond. But when the questions were open-ended they got stumped.
Then, a decade after that, another researcher (me) decided to replicate the replication. Admittedly, my sample size -- a four-year-old who lives in my house -- was small and not terribly scientific. Still, I approached this with a modicum of rigor, even going so far as to tape the interview. Here are the results:
Researcher: Is red heavier than yellow?
Subject: Red.
Researcher: Is a fork happier than a knife?
Subject: A fork is happier than a knife.
Researcher: Is a jumper angrier than a tree?
Subject: A jumper is angrier.
Researcher: What do feet have for breakfast?
Subject: Feet don’t have anything for breakfast.
The subject then asserted that this was boring and that he wanted to do something else. Which, you know, fair enough.
All this is important for researchers who interview children. But I think those of us with ages in the double digits also get tricked into answering stupid questions. Recently CNN and the Opinion Research Corporation conducted a survey that asked people whether the first two years of Obama’s presidency had been a success or a failure: 45-percent said it was success, 48-percent deemed it a failure. (In fairness, they also asked whether it was “too soon to tell” but only 5-percent were willing to withhold judgment.)
I’d argue that asking whether something as complicated and multifaceted as a presidency is a “success” or a “failure” after two years is pretty silly. Yet plenty of people were willing to answer. It’s not quite “Is a fork happier than a knife?” but it’s close.
(The 1980 study is by Martin Hughes and Robert Grieve. It was published in First Language. The 2001 study ran in The Psychologist, and was recently featured in their “from the archives” section. The authors are Amanda Waterman, Mark Blades and Christopher Spencer. My study remains unpublished.)