Obesity and dementia

It’s always difficult to draw firm conclusions from epidemiological research. No matter how large the sample size and how carefully conducted the study, it’s seldom possible to be sure that the result you have found is what you were looking for, and not some kind of bias or confounding.

So when I heard in the news yesterday that overweight and obese people were at reduced risk of dementia, my first thought was “I wonder if that’s really true?”

Well, the paper is here. Sadly behind a paywall (seriously guys? You know it’s 2015, right?), though luckily the researchers have made a copy of the paper available as a Word document here.

In many ways, it’s a pretty good study. Certainly no complaints about the sample size: they analysed data on nearly 2 million people. With a median follow-up time of over 9 years, their analysis was based on a long enough time period to be meaningful. They had also thought about the obvious problem with looking at obesity and dementia, namely that obese people may be less likely to get dementia not because obesity protects them against dementia, but just because they are more likely to die of an obesity-related disease before they are old enough to develop dementia.

The authors did a sensitivity analysis in which they assumed that patients who died during the observation period had twice the risk of developing dementia had they lived of patients who survived to the end of follow-up. Although that weakened the negative association between overweight and dementia, it was still present.

There are, of course, other ways to do this. Perhaps it might have been appropriate to use a competing risks survival model instead of the Poisson model they used for their statistical analysis, and if you were going to be picky, you could say their choice of statistical analysis was a bit fishy (sorry, couldn’t resist).

But I don’t think the method of analysis is the big problem here.

For a start, although some of the most obvious confounders (age, sex, smoking, drinking, relevant medication use, diabetes, and previous myocardial infarction) were adjusted for in the analysis, there was no adjustment for socioeconomic status or education level, which is a big omission.

But more importantly, I think the major limitation of these results comes from what is known as the healthy survivor effect.

Let me explain.

The people followed up in the study were all aged over 40 at the start. But there was no upper age limit. Some people were aged over 90 at the start. And not surprisingly, most of the cases of dementia occurred in older people.  Only 18 cases of dementia occurred in those aged 40-44, whereas over 12,000 cases were observed in those aged 80-84. So it’s really the older age groups who are dominating the analysis. Over half the cases of dementia occurred in people aged > 80, and over 90% occurred in people aged > 70.

Now, let’s think about those 80+ year olds for a minute.

There is reasonably good evidence that obese people die younger, on average, than those of normal weight. So the obese people who were aged > 80 at the start of the study are probably not normal obese people. They are probably healthier than average obese people. Many obese people who are less healthy than average would be dead before they are 80, so would never have the chance to be included in that age group of the study.

So in other words, the old obese people in the study are not typical obese people: they are unusually healthy obese people.

That may be because they have good genes or it may be because something about their lifestyle is keeping them healthy, but one way or another, they have managed to live a long life despite their obesity. This is an example of the healthy survivor effect.

There will also be a healthy survivor effect at play in the people of normal weight at the upper end of the age range, but that will probably be less marked, as they haven’t had to survive despite obesity.

I think it is therefore possible that this healthy survivor effect may have skewed the results. The people with obesity may have been at less risk of dementia not because their obesity protected them, but because they were a biased subset of unusually healthy obese people.

This does not, of course, mean that obesity doesn’t protect against dementia. Maybe it does. One thing that would have been interesting would be to see the results broken down by the type of dementia. It is hard to believe that obesity would protect against vascular dementia, when on the whole it is a risk factor for other vascular diseases, but the hypothesis that it could protect against Alzheimer’s disease doesn’t seem so implausible.

What it does mean is that we have to be really careful when interpreting the results of epidemiological studies such as this one. It is always extremely hard to know to what extent the various forms of bias that can creep into epidemiological studies have influenced the results.

 

 

Psychology journal bans P values

I was rather surprised to see recently (OK, it was a couple of months ago, but I do have a day job to do as well as writing this blog) that the journal Basic and Applied Social Psychology has banned P values.

That’s quite a bold move. There are of course many problems with P values, about which David Colquhoun has written some sensible thoughts. Those problems seem to be particularly acute in the field of psychology, which suffers from something of a problem when it comes to replicating results. It’s undoubtedly true that many published papers with significant P values haven’t really discovered what they claimed to have discovered, but have just made type I errors, or in other words, have obtained significant results just by chance, rather than because what they claim to have discovered is actually true.

It’s worth reminding ourselves what the conventional test of statistical significance actually means. If we say we have a significant result with P < 0.05, then that means that there is a 1 in 20 chance we would have seen that result if in fact we had completely random data. A 1 in 20 chance is not at all rare, particularly when you consider the huge number of papers that are published every day. Many of them are going to have type I errors.

Clearly, something must be done.

However, call me a cynic if you like, but I’m not sure how banning P values (and confidence intervals as well, if you thought just banning P values was radical enough) is going to help. Perhaps if all articles in Basic and Applied Social Psychology in the future have robust Bayesian analyses that would be an improvement. But I hardly think that’s likely to happen. What is more likely is that researchers will claim to have discovered effects even if they are not conventionally statistically significant, which surely is even worse than where we were before.

I suspect one of the problems with psychology research is that much research, particularly negative research, goes unpublished. It’s probably a lot easier to get a paper published showing that you have just demonstrated some fascinating psychological effect than if you have just demonstrated that the effect you had hypothesised doesn’t in fact exist.

This is a problem we know well in my world of clinical trials. There is abundant evidence that positive clinical trials are more likely to be published than negative ones. This is a problem that the clinical research community has become very much aware of, and has been working quite hard to solve. I wouldn’t say it is completely solved yet, but things are a lot better now than they were a decade or two ago.

One relevant factor is the move to prospective trial registration.  It seems that prospectively registering trials is helping to solve the problem of publication bias. While clinical research doesn’t yet have a 100% publication record (though some recent studies do show disclosure rates of > 80%), I suspect clinical research is far ahead of the social sciences.

Perhaps a better solution to the replication crisis in psychology would be a system for prospectively registering all psychology experiments and a commitment by researchers and journals to publish all results, positive or negative. That wouldn’t necessarily mean more results get replicated, of course, but it would mean that we’d be more likely to know about it when results are not replicated.

I’m not pretending this would be easy. Clinical trials are often multi-million dollar affairs, and the extra bureaucracy involved in trial registration is trivial in comparison with the overall effort. Many psychology experiments are done on a much smaller scale, and the extra bureaucracy would probably add proportionately a lot more to the costs. But personally, I think we’d all be better off with fewer experiments done and more of them being published.

I don’t think the move by Basic and Applied Social Psychology is likely to improve the quality of reporting in that journal. But if it gets us all talking about the limitations of P values, then maybe that’s not such a bad thing.