Abstract
Religious/spiritual communities in the United States hold significant differences in the relative valuing of social order and progress toward social justice, and religious/spiritual leaders play an influential role in fostering those values. This recognition has prompted calls for theological education to revise the process of student formation, equipping them to address an increasingly diverse social world and the social disparities within their larger communities. Right-wing authoritarianism tends to be associated with a preference for social order and various forms of prejudice, and negatively associated with prosocial attitudes and behaviors. However, there is a limited amount of research examining associations between right-wing authoritarianism and the prosocial constructs of social justice commitment and compassion. The present study explored the longitudinal associations between right-wing authoritarianism, social justice commitment, and compassion in a sample of graduate students from 18 Christian seminaries across North America over two and a half years of their education (N = 580; Mage = 31.50; 47.3% female; 62.9% White). Longitudinal data analysis indicated that right-wing authoritarianism exerted a negative influence on social justice commitment and compassion, during the initial time interval which then faded over time. Results also indicated a reciprocal process among right-wing authoritarianism and social justice commitment. Practical implications centered on the potential for interventions targeting the reduction of right-wing authoritarianism to increase social justice commitment and compassion, and interventions targeting greater social justice commitment to lower right-wing authoritarianism.
Individuals differ within various religious/spiritual (R/S) communities regarding their views on the relative valuing of social order and stability versus change toward greater social justice. Long-standing debates about social order and social justice among Christian-identifying persons in the United States have intensified over the past 60 years and have been particularly polarizing in recent years (Krull, 2020). Some R/S leaders have called for a stronger commitment to social justice to transform systemic racism, sexism, poverty, and other forms of oppression (e.g. Romero, 2020), while other R/S leaders have either downplayed these kinds of social justice concerns as outside the purview of the church or have actively warned against social justice concerns as part of a liberal ideology viewed as antithetical to the Christian faith (e.g. Allen, 2020). On 1 June 2020 and in the wake of the killing of George Floyd, a key public event in the United States symbolized these conflicts with police in riot gear using chemical gas to disperse social justice protesters in front of the White House, and with former President Donald Trump then walking across the cleared space and Lafayette Square to pose for a picture while holding up a Bible in front of St John’s Episcopal Church. For some R/S leaders, including the Rector of St. John’s church, this event represented a disturbing and inappropriate use of a R/S symbol by a government leader as part of enacting violence against peaceful advocates of social justice (Kilgore, 2020). For other R/S leaders, Trump was upholding Christian truth as the key to social order in the face of dangerous societal unrest. These differing interpretations and responses to this event reveal the powerful role of R/S in disagreements about social order and social justice.
The intensified debate in the political and social landscape of the United States, including among R/S leaders, about social order and social justice has occurred at a time when several organizations within the helping professions have clarified the need for training in diversity competence and social justice (e.g. Killian & Floren, 2020). For example, addressing a group of Christian-identifying mental health professionals, Wang (2021) spoke of the imperative to engage in social action, addressing societal ills such as systemic racism while grounding this imperative within R/S and character formation, and leadership. Training for R/S leadership vocations tends to be more loosely regulated than that of other helping professions; however, the Association for Theological Schools recognized the growing diversity in faith communities and sponsored initiatives designed to “prepar[e] member schools and the students they serve for ministry in multicultural and multiracial contexts” (Young, 2018, p. 3). Theologian Keri Day (2018) asked probing questions about the ways theological education needs to shift to address growing diversity and public concerns about social injustice, while also noting that social justice concerns such as racism too often remain “a peripheral theological subject in many seminaries and divinity schools” (p. 78). R/S leaders can often have a significant impact on the ideological commitments and the level of prosocial attitudes and behaviors within their faith communities, through advancing “a vision of the kind of world to become” (Sheppard, 2017, p. 184). Despite the long history of empirical research investigating individual differences in R/S beliefs, experiences, and practices and their association with prejudice, there is currently very little research on emerging R/S leaders and factors that might be associated with their commitment to social justice. Therefore, it seems important to understand the dynamic processes unfolding during emerging R/S leaders’ vocational and theological training.
Right-wing authoritarianism, social justice, and compassion
Contemporary research on Right-wing authoritarianism (RWA) was launched by Altemeyer (1996) to reactivate the post–World War II research on authoritarianism. RWA has been referred to as a “social attitude” (Harnish et al., 2018, p. 669), ideology (Bacon et al., 2021), and an (im)moral or (a)moral orientation (Kugler et al., 2014), and can be framed as a motivation for “maintaining social control and security” (Perry et al., 2015, p. 231). RWA has been positively associated with numerous indices of prejudice (e.g. racism, sexism, homophobia, anti-immigrant sentiments, hostile classism), intolerance, rape myth acceptance, and ethnocentrism, and has been negatively associated with prosocial attitudes and behaviors (e.g. Araújo et al., 2019; Banyasz et al., 2016; Ensz & Jankowski, 2020; Hodson et al., 2017; Jordan et al., 2021; Perry et al., 2015). Furthermore, RWA motivates resistance to social change in response to perceived threats via (a) unreflective submission to persons in authority, and (b) hostility toward outsiders (Manganelli Rattazzi et al., 2007). Those high in RWA tend to rely upon external authority figures for their moral and social views rather than principled moral reasoning (Teymoori et al., 2014). RWA tends to be positively associated with conservative political ideology (Harnish et al., 2018; Kugler et al., 2014) and has shown consistent positive associations with fundamentalism and indicators of R/S commitment (Ensz & Jankowski, 2020). As such, R/S beliefs and practices can be used to reinforce the RWA motivation to promote social control, conformity to traditional values, and security measures, against a world that is perceived as increasingly dangerous.
Sibley and Osborne (2016) theorized that RWA is a key factor within postcolonial societies, that is, societies “indelibly scarred by a history of injustices experienced by the Indigenous peoples” (p. 116). RWA serves to promote the maintenance of the social status quo by (a) negating awareness of historical injustice and (b) maintaining the legitimacy of symbolic exclusion of non-dominant groups from national identity. Acknowledging social injustice can conflict with the moral identity and idealized values of those high in RWA, who prefer social cohesion over awareness of sociocultural differences. Sibley and Osborne reported results of a meta-analysis of 13 studies showing that RWA was positively associated with both dimensions of postcolonial ideology (i.e. historical negation and symbolic exclusion) and was used to justify ongoing social inequality due to perceived dangers. Cárdenas Castro et al. (2022), using a measure based on moral foundations theory, found that justice (i.e. fairness/reciprocity dimension) negatively predicted historical negation, whereas compassion (i.e. harm/care dimension) negatively predicted symbolic exclusion. They also observed a positive correlation between justice and compassion and negative correlations of each with RWA. Similarly, Harnish et al. (2018) found negative associations between RWA and compassion and justice dimensions, whereas greater compassion was associated with greater justice. As Milojev et al. (2014) noted, the two dimensions of justice and compassion “relate to the traditional notions of morality in terms of individual rights and matters of social justice” (p. 152). Relatedly, Paine et al. (2022) found the dimensions of compassion and justice were each positively associated with a measure of social justice commitment. Bacon et al. (2021) also found an association between greater RWA and lower compassion, the latter measured using a framework other than moral foundations theory.
Last, Milojev et al. (2014) identified four latent subgroups of participants and found that subgroup membership in the individuator profile (i.e. high compassion, high justice, low in-group/loyalty, low authority/respect, and low purity/sanctity) was predicted by lower RWA, lower social dominance, non-religious identification, greater liberal political identification, greater openness, and greater humility, relative to the moderates profile. As Kugler et al. (2014) concluded, “the moral valuation of ingroup loyalty, obedience to authority, and purity concerns is associated with attitudes and belief systems that may be considered prejudicial” (p. 425). Furthermore, RWA represents a set of ideological commitments that influence moral judgments antithetical to “the virtuous (or noble) life” (Kugler et al., 2014, p. 415). Despite these findings, longitudinal research on RWA, social justice, and compassion is minimal, and so we explored the associations between RWA and the virtues of social justice and compassion over five waves of data.
Social justice and R/S leaders
Leong et al. (2017) defined social justice as “promot[ing] a common humanity of all social groups by valuing diversity and challenging injustice and disparities in all its forms” (p. 779). Similarly, Shriberg and Clinton (2016) noted that “social justice can be seen as an extension of multiculturalism” (p. 326). Multicultural or diversity competence is therefore a necessary element of social justice. Sandage and colleagues (2020), in their relational spirituality model (RSM), framed social justice and intercultural competence as two dimensions of mature alterity or healthy ways of relating across differences, with concern for systemic equity. Volf (2019) noted that “the best traditions of thinking about justice sought not to abstract from differences, but to give them their due” (p. 155) and suggested that justice begins when the individual opens space within the self to allow room for those differences.
Seminary students’ self-reported commitment to social justice have been positively associated with several indicators of healthy or mature R/S development, including humility, hope, and forgiveness, positive religious coping, and various indicators of positive interpersonal functioning (e.g. Bell et al., 2017; Jankowski et al., 2013; Sandage & Jankowski, 2013; Sandage & Morgan, 2014). Social justice commitment, in particular, refers to “the degree to which an individual is concerned with justice . . . or the strength of an individual’s justice motive” (Baumert & Schmitt, 2016, p. 161). “‘Concerns’ refer to everything that is important to people, to which they aspire, or that they defend or claim for themselves and for others” (Montada & Maes, 2016, p. 119). Studies have also found that seminary students’ social justice commitment was lower among those reporting higher levels of a (a) preference for interpersonal hierarchy (Jankowski et al., 2018; Sandage et al., 2017) and (b) defensive theology (Bell et al., 2017), the latter which emphasizes special protection by God “deployed to minimize existential predicaments” (Beck, 2006, p. 143). These findings suggest that individual differences among emerging R/S leaders in social justice can be embedded in other developmental processes, and this could hold important implications for theological education and training to address social justice. To date, this literature is mostly limited to cross-sectional studies in predominantly evangelical contexts so there is a need for longitudinal research with broader R/S samples. The present study addressed this need by exploring the dynamic processes among RWA and the virtues of compassion and social justice in an ecumenical North American sample of students at Christian seminaries, over 2.5 years of seminary education.
Compassion and social justice
Gulliford and Roberts (2018) suggested that compassion and social justice in part comprise the cluster of virtues they labeled as caring, which “provide motivation to action” (p. 214). They stated further that the caring virtues are “‘motivational’ because they supply moral concern: to be just, for example, is to care about other people’s rights” (p. 210), whereas compassion refers to caring about sufferers. Theologian Wendy Farley (2020) noted the influence of individual differences in relational spirituality on levels of compassion, “our images of the divine are reflected in how we treat others . . . Love, compassion, and social justice are the fruits of loving God” (pp. 6–7). Davies (2003) described compassion as “the heart of the Christian response to God” (p. 253). Philosopher and political activist Cornell West (2004), also noted, “The prophetic figures in Israelite history-Jeremiah, Micah, Amos, Isaiah, and others-give voice to divine compassion and justice in order to awaken human compassion and justice” (p. 114). Amari (2021) proposed that compassion actualizes social justice. Social justice is thus the alleviation of human suffering activated in response to unfairness, oppression, and marginalization. In many R/S traditions, compassion involves a sense of the sacred interconnectedness of all persons and a concern for shared well-being (Armstrong, 2006), and the alleviation of unjust suffering and the extension of radical hospitality as a sacred duty for many R/S leaders (Choi, 2015).
Compassion goes beyond empathy or understanding the feelings of others to include deep concern and a willingness to act in response to the suffering of others. Sprecher and Fehr (2005) used the term compassionate love to highlight both emotional and transcendent (or R/S) aspects, and they noted that compassionate love involves (a) close relationships and (b) perceived relations with strangers or humankind as a whole that can involve varying degrees of caring, tenderness, and concern to be supportive and helpful. This extension of compassion beyond one’s close relationships to include strangers and humanity more broadly is particularly relevant to social justice, which often requires the capacity to experience a widening circle of social concern and desired connection to build relationships and work for systemic change. Along these lines, Amari (2021) stated that “compassion calls for a relationship of radical openness to the mystery of otherness” (p. 6).
Individuals differ in their capacities for compassion, and there is evidence that some individuals tend to fear compassion, associating it with weakness and a potential threat to a well-organized social order, hierarchy, and meritocracy (Gilbert, 2019). A unique program of longitudinal research on compassion among undergraduate students at a Catholic university in the United States found a trend toward increased compassion from freshman to senior year (Plante & Halman, 2016), and compassion was also positively correlated with a sense of vocational calling, strength of R/S commitment, participation in community service, participation in racial and diversity awareness workshops, and preparation for a service-oriented career (Callister & Plante, 2017; Hwang et al., 2008). These researchers called for studies investigating longitudinal associations for compassion with more diverse R/S identifying samples and in various service-oriented vocational contexts (Callister & Plante, 2017; Plante & Mejia, 2016). The measures of compassion and social justice used in the current study have previously demonstrated a positive association over three waves of data with this sample (Jankowski, Sandage, Wang et al., 2022). Of particular importance, the measures of social justice and compassion demonstrated evidence of discriminant validity, suggesting that while related the two constructs were sufficiently distinct.
The present study
The present study is part of a larger study involving students attending a theologically diverse group of Christian seminaries (Catholic, Evangelical, Greek Orthodox, Mainline Protestant) across North America (e.g. Jankowski, Sandage, Wang, et al., 2022; Jankowski et al., 2021). The larger study is focused in part on the R/S and virtue formation of students obtaining theological education. In the current study, we answered the call for theological education to address social justice formation (e.g. Day, 2018) and did so by exploring the longitudinal associations between the aggression/submission dimension of RWA (Manganelli Rattazzi et al., 2007) and the virtues of social justice and compassion. Much of the existing research literature on virtues has been cross-sectional (Jankowski, Sandage, Wang et al., 2022), and so, we explored associations among RWA, social justice, and compassion over five waves of data. We used a panel model that permitted the exploration of dynamic processes over time, and by dynamic, we mean modeling the prior influence of a manifest variable on future assessment of that manifest variable and reciprocal exchanges among variables over time (Muthén, 2021). One strength of the panel model is “the potential to show real-world evidence of effects that may otherwise be difficult to uncover” (Zyphur, Allison et al., 2020, p. 652). Other strengths include modeling the temporal order among variables, bidirectional or reciprocal associations, and confound control (Zyphur, Voelkle et al., 2020). As such, we did not have specific expectations about how the associations among RWA, social justice, and compassion would play out over time. Existing cross-sectional findings suggest positive associations between compassion and social justice and negative associations between RWA and both compassion and social justice.
Method
Participants
Data were collected from graduate students at 18 seminaries across North America at five time points (N = 580; Mage = 31.50; SD = 11.12; range = 19 – 71). A majority identified as male (52%; 47.3% female), heterosexual (92%; 2.5% gay/lesbian, 3.6% bisexual, 1.9% other), single/never married (54.4%), and as White (62.9%; 14.3% Asian, 8.7% Black, 6.0% Hispanic, 6.1% multiple races, 2.0% other). A majority attended evangelical Protestant affiliated seminaries (59%), whereas others attended mainline Protestant (25.2%), Catholic (11.9%), and Greek Orthodox (3.8%). Data collected at wave 3 showed that 84.9% identified as Christian, 12.1% identified as other, and 3.1% as none.
Procedure
During the fall of 2019, students were recruited to consent and complete an online survey, in exchange for a $25 gift card. The recruitment process was repeated approximately every 6 months, with time 2 during spring 2020 (N = 439; M = 5.92 months later, SD = 1.24), time 3 during fall 2020 (N = 358; M = 6.84 months later, SD = .97), time 4 during spring 2021 (N = 320; M = 5.48 months later, SD = .82), and time 5 during fall 2021 (N = 245; M = 6.75 months later, SD = .81).
Measures
Right-wing authoritarianism
We used four items from the 10-item aggression/submission subscale of the Right-wing Authoritarianism—Short Form (e.g. “What our country really needs instead of more ‘civil rights’ is a good stiff dose of law and order”; Manganelli Rattazzi et al., 2007). Participants rated items on a scale of 1 (totally disagree) to 7 (totally agree). Higher scores on the four items (ω = .85 at time 1; λs > .56) represented greater uncritical submission to authority and a hostile attitude toward others who do not conform to dominant group norms.
Social justice commitment
We used five items (ω = .84 at time 1; λs > .55) derived from a factor analysis (Jankowski, Sandage, Wang et al., 2022) of items from a five-item measure of social justice advocacy (e.g. “I am active in efforts to promote social justice”; Choi et al., 2019) and a three-item measure of intercultural competence commitment (e.g. “I am active in efforts to know other people and their cultures outside of my own ethnic group”; Choi et al., 2019). Participants rated items on a scale from 1 (never true) to 5 (always true), with higher scores indicating greater commitment to social justice.
Compassion
We assessed compassion using the five-item Santa Clara Brief Compassion Scale (ω = .87 at time 1;λs > .60; e.g. “I would rather engage in actions that help others, even though they are strangers, than engage in actions that would help me”; Hwang et al., 2008). Participants rated items on a scale of 1 (not at all true of me) to 7 (very true of me), with higher scores indicating greater compassion.
Data analytic plan
Longitudinal data were analyzed using Mplus (version 8.4; Muthén & Muthén, 1998–2019). Data were missing completely at random (Little’s test χ2 = 153.13(178), p = .91) and multivariate non-normal (Mardia’s multivariate kurtosis statistic = 17.75, p < .001). We handled missing data using full-information maximum likelihood estimation and used maximum likelihood estimation with robust standard errors to estimate model fit. We compared the fit of each model using the Akaike information criterion (AIC), with a lower AIC indicating better fit (Burnham & Anderson, 2004). We started with a traditional cross-lagged (CL) panel model and then added random intercepts, and moving averages, building what Muthén (2021) referred to as a dynamic random intercept autoregressive (AR) model with moving averages with 1-unit time lags (D-RI-ARMA11; see Figure 1). The random intercept captures “factors that create stability rather than occasion specific change” (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020, p. 659) and is referred to as a “between-group effect or a fixed-effect” (Shamsollahi et al., 2022, p. 4) which “control[s] for stable [between group] factors while evaluating dynamic [within group] relationships” (p. 2). Moving averages model the influence of a residual, referred to as a random impulse, on later variables. A random impulse represents “an unpredictable ‘shock’ or ‘innovation’ that is meant to mimic what may happen due to an intervention” (Shamsollahi et al., 2022, p. 5). Moving averages carry forward an “unpredictable ‘surprise’ in the system being modeled over time” (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020, p. 658).

Autoregressive cross-lagged panel model with random intercepts and moving averages.
Results
We first estimated the traditional CL panel model, with dynamic processes between RWA, social justice, and compassion modeled over the five waves of data. We then conducted multiple model comparison, which represents a synthesis of exploratory and confirmatory research processes. “Here, there is no null hypothesis; instead, there are several . . . ‘models’ that are being entertained” (Burnham & Anderson, 2004, p. 265). Shrout and Rodgers (2018) suggested a “dialectical relationship between exploratory and confirmatory research” purposes and that balancing these aims can “further the goals of identifying legitimate and meaningful knowledge production” (p. 504).
The traditional model, Model 1, yielded poor fit to the data (χ2 = 393.71(54), p < .001, comparative fit index [CFI] = .870, root mean square error of approximation [RMSEA] = .10, 90% confidence interval [CI] [.09, .11], AIC = 13560.50). Model 2 added random intercepts and provided better fit relative to the traditional model (χ2 = 62.70(48), p = .08, CFI = .995, RMSEA = .02, 90% CI [.00, .04], AIC = 13182.36). Model 2a included a latent slope variable (χ2 = 36.84(42), p = .70, CFI = 1.00, RMSEA = .00, 90% CI [.00, .023], AIC = 13162.47), and Model 2b was a time-invariant version, with AR and CL paths fixed to equality over time (χ2 = 73.06(69), p = .35, CFI = .999, RMSEA = .01, 90% CI [.00, .027], AIC = 13150.51). Zyphur, Voelkle, et al. (2020) referred to this model as an AR latent trajectory model, and the better fitting Model 2b, based on the lower AIC, revealed a significant decline in RWA over time (slope = −.06, SE = .02, p = .002). Model 3 consisted of the traditional model with moving averages added, and also yielded good fit to the data (χ2 = 26.39(27), p = .50, CFI = 1.00, RMSEA = .00, 90% CI [.00, .03], AIC = 13181.71). Model 4 added random intercepts to build the D-RI-ARMA11 model, and fit the data well (χ2 = 7.04(12), p = .85, CFI = 1.00, RMSEA = .00, 90% CI [.00, .02], AIC = 13188.24). Last, Model 5 was a time-invariant D-RI-ARMA11 model, with AR, CL, and moving averages paths fixed to equality over time, which also fit the data well (χ2 = 82.91(66), p = .08, CFI = .994, RMSEA = .02, 90% CI [.00, .03], AIC = 13167.96).
We opted for the time-invariant D-RI-ARMA11 model based on the low AIC, and the substantive interpretations afforded by the model. As Zyphur, Allison, et al. (2020) stated, “we advocate balancing concerns about fit with . . . theoretical and contextual knowledge about the processes being modeled” (p. 672). Furthermore, model selection involves a dialectic between parsimony and complexity. Slife and Reber (2021) suggested that “parsimony is still an interpretive, professional bias that has nothing inherently to do with data; . . . a more complex interpretation [might] fit the complexity of the data better” (p. 16), and Lilienfeld (2018) noted that “parsimony is frequently an inaccurate scientific heuristic . . . [that] should not be adopted at the expense of fidelity to reality” (p. 79). In addition, model selection involves balancing “under- and overfitted models,” as “models with too few parameters (variables) can be biased, . . . [and] models [that] have too many parameters (variables) . . . [can result in] poor precision or identification of effects that are, in fact, spurious” (Burnham & Anderson, 2004, p. 265). Thus, while Models 2a and 2b yielded better fit, based on the AIC, Zyphur, Voelkle, et al. (2020) pointed out that imposing the linear slope “can strongly impact estimates of AR and CL terms” because of ignoring “time-specific [occasion] effects” (p. 705). In addition, the absence of moving averages limits the dynamic processes that can be modeled (Zyphur, Voelkle, et al., 2020). Taken together, we opted for interpreting Model 5. Nevertheless, Model 2b does offer a substantive interpretation of trajectories.
The analysis of the D-RI-ARMA11 model involves assessing “short-run and long-run dynamics” (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020, p. 661). Short-run dynamics are direct effects that occur within the 1-unit of elapsed time, whereas the long-run “effects of . . . shocks are traced through the system,” and in this case, over the five waves of data (p. 665). First, we used unconstrained versus constrained model comparisons based on ΔAIC to evaluate short-run effects (Zyphur, 2019), which implemented “Granger-Sims causality tests” (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020, p. 664). The time 1 random impulse for RWA influenced time 2 compassion, as constraining the CL paths and the paths for the CL moving averages to zero worsened fit (ΔAIC = 2.36; ΔAIC > 2 is generally regarded as the point at which a difference becomes potentially meaningful; e.g. Burnham & Anderson, 2004). In addition, the time 1 random impulse for RWA initiated a short-run effect to time 2 social justice (ΔAIC = 2.25). We also found evidence of a reciprocal effect (Zyphur, 2019; Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020), and specifically, for the process from the time 1 RWA impulse to social justice and then back to RWA (ΔAIC = 3.46). By comparison, each of these ΔAIC tests were consistent with deterioration in fit of ΔCFI = .002, which has been proposed as a cutoff for which a change in model fit can be meaningful (Meade et al., 2008).
Second, often of more substantive interest and use is the evaluation of long-run effects (Zyphur, 2019). We used the MODEL INDIRECT command in Mplus with 20,000 percentile bootstrap (PC) samples to generate confidence intervals for the total effects (direct + indirect effects; Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020). Figures 2 to 4 display the plots of the total effects over time. The plots depict a “mean-reverting” process (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020, p. 669), or “homeostatic system” (Martin & Zyphur, 2022, p. 518). After an initial perturbation, the influence of the random impulse faded over time. That is, “the past is forgotten over time because the indirect effects of past impulses tend towards zero as the past becomes more distant” (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020, p. S13). The plots for uAU->AU, uCM->CM, uSJ->SJ, and uAU->CM each exhibited a short-run effect, as the bootstrapped confidence intervals did not cover zero during the first interval. However, the confidence interval for the short-run effect from uAU->SJ did cover zero, although it did not cover zero in the second interval, but which nevertheless provided somewhat conflicting evidence to the ΔAIC results reported above. The long-run effects reached zero by the third interval, or time point 4. Additional evidence for the reciprocal process between RWA and social justice was seen in the time 1 social justice impulse to RWA at time 3, in which the confidence interval for the total effect did not cover zero (B = −.04, SE = .01, PC 95% CI [−.09, −.002]). Such mean-reverting processes signify system stability, also seen in the large factor loadings across time points for the random intercepts (λs > .71; Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020).

Impulse response functions for right-wing authoritarianism.

Impulse response functions for social justice commitment.

Impulse response functions for compassion.
We conducted a “robustness check” (Martin & Zyphur, 2022, p. 517), or a sensitivity analysis, by “running alternative, justifiable analyses to see whether a reported result would still hold up” (Nuijten, 2021, p. 20). For the check, we used a time-invariant version of Model 2 (χ2 = 95.44(75), p = .06, CFI = .993, RMSEA = .02, 90% CI [.00, .034], AIC = 13164.31). We generated Bayesian credibility intervals (CI) to examine the effects (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020), based on 10,000 Markov Chain Monte Carlo samples, using default Mplus settings. First, we found direct effects for each variable on the subsequent occasion of measurement for that variable during the first lag interval for RWA (B = .10, SE = .03, 95% CI [.04, .16]), social justice (B = .11, SE = .03, 95% CI [.06, .18]), and compassion (B = .08, SE = .03, 95% CI [.01, .14]). We also found direct effects for time 1 RWA on time 2 compassion (B = −.05, SE = .02, 95% CI [−.09, −.003]) and time 2 social justice (B = −.03, SE = .02, 95% CI [−.06, −.003]). These results were consistent with the short-run effects observed above for Model 5. We also observed evidence of the reciprocal process between RWA and social justice. There was a significant total indirect effect from time 1 RWA to time 3 RWA (B = .016, SE = .007, 95% CI [.01, .03]) and the specific indirect effect through time 2 social justice did not cover zero. Conversely, there was a significant total indirect effect from time 1 social justice to time 3 social justice (B = .017, SE = .008, 95% CI [.01, .04]) and the specific indirect effect through time 2 RWA did not cover zero. Last, total effects reached zero by time 5, consistent with the mean-reversion processes in the plots of impulse responses (Figures 2 to 4). As we noted earlier, there were conceptual advantages to the D-RI-ARMA11 model which involved positing random perturbations that act on the system, symbolizing the potential for interventions to alter processes over time.
Discussion
We found positive short-run effects for each variable on subsequent occasions of itself. That is, initial levels of compassion predicted later levels of compassion over a 6-month period, but this influence waned by 12 months. A similar process was observed for social justice, whereas for RWA, the short-run influence on later RWA extended out to 18 months, which suggested a more persistent process relative to that observed for compassion and social justice. Such a contrast in processes makes sense since RWA is deemed an ideological attitude, emphasizing conservation and order, whereas compassion and social justice, while framed as virtues, and therefore dispositional tendencies, are also behavioral responses to external cues, as the sample items above connote. We also found negative short-run effects for RWA on subsequent occasions of compassion and social justice. Specifically, RWA had an initial negative influence on subsequent levels of compassion and social justice that waned over time, reaching zero by 12 months for compassion, but extending out to 18 months for social justice. We also found evidence of reciprocal processes among RWA and social justice, which suggests that interventions “may impact y, x, or both via feedback” (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020, p. 664). These processes suggest that an initial shock can initiate change; however, this change will not persist. As Zyphur, Allison, et al. (2020) noted, “mean-reversion can imply difficulty in permanently affecting a system vis-à-vis an intervention” (p. S14). Nevertheless, the greater persistent influence for RWA on subsequent levels of RWA and social justice makes sense since change in ideological attitude seems “less malleable” relative to modifying behavior (Zhao et al., 2020, p. 266), and so when it does occur, may indicate a greater depth of change in values or beliefs. In contrast, compassion in part consists of positive emotion (e.g. “I often have tender feelings toward people . . .”; Hwang et al., 2008, p. 427), and positive emotion can fluctuate considerably over time and vary by context (Joshanloo, 2019).
Practical implications
This was not an intervention study; however, the modeling of the panel data that we employed can be used to plan interventions (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020). There have been compelling calls for greater attention to social justice in seminary education (e.g. Day, 2018; Pollard, 2017), and yet, very little empirical research is available on students’ level of social justice during seminary, and what might influence change in social justice over time. Our findings suggested that decreases in RWA predicted increases in compassion and social justice, and that designing interventions to reduce RWA may have an influence on later levels of compassion and social justice. We also found evidence that designing interventions to increase social justice may lower later levels of RWA. Furthermore, our findings suggested that one-time interventions were likely to be insufficient and that interventions may need to be continued at regular intervals or novel interventions offered repeatedly over time (Shamsollahi et al., 2022). Future research could explicitly test for these effects.
In addition, some social justice educators such as Boler (2004) have suggested using a dialectical pedagogical approach facilitating both discomfort and compassion among students. Boler’s pedagogical strategy is designed to address students’ “emotional investments” in the social order (p. 118), an interest shared by Zembylas (2012) and Applebaum (2017). By emphasizing engagement with students’ moral identity and R/S practices, and their emotional ties to social cohesion, control, and security, these educators offer potential approaches for addressing core characteristics of RWA at the emotional level. We also affirm the work of educators articulating decolonizing and critical consciousness pedagogies with attention to student R/S and virtue formation in Christian education contexts that are increasingly diverse but historically colonizing (De La Rosa & Jun, 2019; Sheppard, 2017). This work will also need to be integrated with thoughtful strategies for working formatively with students with higher RWA beliefs who may struggle to develop compassion and social justice, as our findings highlighted. In addition, seminary educators may need to wrestle with the potential ethical issues of intentionally promoting social justice in ways that may be in tension with the ideological commitments of some students.
Social justice interventions might benefit from including the promotion of socially inclusive behaviors. Social inclusion can be seen as an antidote to prejudice and inequality (Zhao et al., 2020). Martin and Zyphur (2022) found a reciprocal process between greater social justice and greater perceived social inclusion, and Zhao et al. (2020) found that greater RWA corresponded to lower socially inclusive behavioral intentions, which included different levels of engagement, that is, interpersonal, volunteering, and political action. Zhao et al. concluded that persons higher in RWA may only resist social inclusion when those behaviors “challenge the status quo and threaten cultural stability” (p. 278). As Zhao et al. also pointed out, interventions should target the motivation for felt security in the face of danger, as behaviors alone may be insufficient to change ideological attitudes.
Gilson (2011) suggested to this end that social justice educators should encourage students to develop an acceptance of and tolerance for vulnerability, as the cultivated ignorance of historical injustices characteristic of RWA often has a self-protective function to preserve moral identity. Suggestions such as these require a willingness on the part of both educators and students to unearth and examine uncomfortable emotions. Greater fear has traditionally been seen as a motivation for greater RWA (Marcus et al., 2019). However, Marcus et al. (2019) interpreted their findings to suggest that “anxiety is not the predominant source of demands for revenge, limitations on immigration, enhanced security, and more authoritarian rule—it is anger” (p. 130). They further noted that “anger springs from the sense that core values and core habits of thought and action are under attack” (p. 131). Effective interventions to reduce RWA therefore should be sure to make space for processing anger, and this could be a complicated goal for many educators, depending on the educators’ ability to facilitate such conversations and the constellation of students in the classroom, or other group training contexts.
Contemplative pedagogy has emerged as a response to the recognition that growth in social justice corresponds to growth in students’ capacity for emotion regulation (Hilert & Tirado, 2019). Contemplative pedagogy strives to “cultivate inner awareness” of the self’s connection to social context (Walter & Shenaar-Golan, 2022, p. 1) and integrates practices explicitly designed to regulate emotional reactivity and promote prosocial relating (e.g. mindfulness practice, journaling, deep listening, focusing; Hilert & Tirado, 2019; Walter & Shenaar-Golan, 2022). Cultivating inner awareness is consistent with Volf’s (2019) metaphor of embrace and suggestion that “if human beings are simply ‘rational agents,’ ‘autonomous beings,’ and ‘unencumbered selves’ then there may indeed be no good reason why we should prefer justice shaped by embrace” (p. 172). However, the notion of humans as “communal selves [brought] into eternal communion with the triune God” (p. 173) calls forth embrace, a making space within the self for diversity and the injustice experienced by others. At the same time, cultivating inner awareness can involve perceived similarity or “self-other overlap,” since there is evidence that greater perceived similarity is a precursor to greater compassion and social justice (e.g. Bracher et al., 2019, p. 107; Knupfer & Matthes, 2021). Furthermore, Bracher et al. (2019) found that social justice could be enhanced by helping participants attribute the other’s behavior to external factors beyond their control.
Rober and De Haene (2014) offered a dialectical framing of difference and similarity, suggesting that “differences are indeed not to be neglected, [and yet] particularity can mask universality [or shared humanity]” (p. 14). Furthermore, shared humanity “especially surfaces in response to trauma, suffering and oppression” (p. 14). This notion of balancing particularity and connectedness finds expression in the systemic construct of differentiation, which is foundational to the RSM and mature alterity (Choi et al., 2019; Jankowski et al., 2013; Sandage et al., 2020). Maturity involves a dialectical synthesis of exploration and openness and connection and community (Choi et al., 2019). Volf (2019) referred to differentiation as a “creative activity of ‘separating-and-binding’ that results in patterns of interdependence” (p. 48). Furthermore, Volf grounded differentiation in “the Trinitarian persons” and their relations to each other, as “open and dynamic ‘identity-with-non-identity’” (p. 138).
Differentiation has demonstrated positive associations with social justice commitment and intercultural competence (Sandage & Jankowski, 2013). We suggest therefore that “differentiation-based relationality” (Jankowski et al., 2013, p. 413) may be a useful foundation for navigating tensions between difference and similarity, and growth in social justice. Differentiation-based-relationality involves intrapersonal processes of opening space and self-regulation and an interpersonal “prosocial orientation toward the other,” which can manifest in tangible actions for social justice (Jankowski et al., 2013, p. 413). Some have referred to this “individual transformation of the self and external transformation in the world” as spiritual activism (Acevedo-Gil & Madrigal-Garcia, 2018, p. 319). Spiritual activism also refers to “the interconnectedness of an individual’s spiritual healing while changing society through social justice actions” (Acevedo-Gil & Madrigal-Garcia, 2018, p. 319). Acevedo-Gil and Madrigal-Garcia (2018) connected spiritual activism to healing from trauma, invalidation, and “systemic marginalization” (p. 335), and more broadly, to using R/S resources for positive development.
Limitations and future research
Findings from this study are limited by the use of self-report data and a sample drawn from students at Christian seminaries in North America. Future studies on the variables in this study are needed within other R/S traditions, in other sociocultural contexts, and with more experienced R/S leaders. Although a majority of these seminarians identified as Christian, roughly 15% identified as “other” or “none,” and there is the possibility that many students held multireligious identities, identities that are deeply formed by their own local and indigenous cultures along with Western Christian cultures. Furthermore, Choi (2020) has noted some of the cultural differences and complexities of compassion and social justice among R/S leaders in postcolonial contexts, and further research is needed on intersectional identities and processes in this area. It might also be interesting to explore how different R/S and cultural hierarchical values intensify RWA and at the same time, how communal values de-intensify socially aggressive aspects of RWA.
The intersection of R/S and cultural values and orientations toward social justice might be studied in different samples that might concentrate unique configurations, and person-centered data analyses could identify such heterogeneous subgroups within these samples. For example, some recent immigrant populations in the United States tend to value social hierarchy, relatively conservative approaches to theology, and social justice. Future studies might seek to identify culturally or theologically specific ways such groups balance strong commitment to in-group cohesion while also holding social justice commitment toward wider communities. Choi (2022) has suggested R/S leaders in immigrant communities often promote this kind of postcolonial mindset through reconstructed virtue practices like humility, compassion, and forgiveness in ways that honor sociocultural faith traditions and also transform difficult emotional experiences to promote resilience. It would also be useful to investigate samples with larger concentrations of R/S leaders who are women or sexual or gender minorities to understand the factors that facilitate or impede social justice commitment. In contrast, the leadership approaches of white Christian R/S leaders who score high in RWA and low in social justice commitment might be further studied to understand colonizing discourses and specific tactics associated with the narcissistic and dictatorial style Choi (2020) identified as central to colonizing leadership styles (pp. 181–182). Longitudinal studies could also be useful for identifying seminary students who experience significant change in RWA and/or social justice commitment, and it would be very helpful to have qualitative data on change processes that move toward the sustained “disavowal” of colonizing R/S orientations and the embrace of shared social power (Choi, 2020, p. 192).
Future research might include social dominance orientation (SDO), which is a positive correlate of RWA that forms the dual process motivational model of ideology and prejudice, and SDO has shown differential associations with prejudicial and prosocial outcomes relative to RWA (Duckitt & Sibley, 2017). Future research might also include measures of benevolent and authoritarian God representations, which have shown patterns of associations with prosocial behavior (Johnson et al., 2016). In addition, future research might include a measure of other-oriented social justice sensitivity. Justice sensitivity captures the degree of emotional responsiveness and “inclination to restore justice and undo injustice” (Baumert & Schmitt, 2016, p. 163). Greater other-oriented justice sensitivity has corresponded to greater social justice commitment, and greater levels of justice and compassion morality dimensions (Baumert & Schmitt, 2016). Last, it would be helpful to identify pedagogical or other experiential factors that influence student gains or declines in RWA, social justice, and compassion during graduate training, and qualitative and mixed-method designs might be particularly useful in this regard. Jankowski, Sandage, Ruffing, et al. (2022), for example, employed a mixed-method design that involved a racially diverse sample of emerging R/S leaders. Quantitative results showed evidence for the effectiveness of a humility intervention to promote concurrent changes in humility, differentiation, and felt security with God. Qualitative data were integrated into the implementation of the intervention and quantitative analyses, and suggested that intention toward prayer/study/worship and self-care/rest practices had a positive influence on change. In addition, greater humility has predicted greater social justice commitment (Jankowski et al., 2013), and future research might explore associations among humility, compassion, and social justice. Humility is thought to promote compassion and social justice via “the elimination of ego-pollution” (Gulliford & Roberts, 2018, p. 214). Last, future research should evaluate the effectiveness of interventions designed to promote greater social justice and reduce RWA. Prior research on positive psychology and virtue-based interventions have demonstrated effectiveness at promoting well-being and virtuousness (Jankowski et al., 2020), and these can be embedded in extracurricular programming or integrated into pedagogical strategies (e.g. Sandage et al., 2015).
Conclusion
We observed dynamic processes among RWA, social justice, and compassion, which included a reciprocal process between RWA and social justice. The modeling approach made use of residuals or impulses “as causes” and as such, evaluated “the short-run effects of random interventions” (Zyphur, Allison, et al., 2020, p. 662). These effects were then examined for their level of persistence over time, and indicated that ongoing or repeated interventions could be useful. As such, the approach enabled us to identify potential entry points in the system for actual planned interventions. Specifically, future research could evaluate the effectiveness of interventions aimed to reduce RWA as a way to increase compassion and social justice, and interventions aimed at increasing social justice to lower RWA.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This study was supported by John Templeton Foundation (#61515).
