Abstract
In the target article I argued, based on a review of studies published on psychology textbook misrepresentations, that liberal or left-wing bias influences the presentation of politically relevant topics in the texts. Some responses to the target article provided helpful context in terms of better understanding the political backdrop against which psychological science is dispensed in psychology textbooks and courses. Questions were also raised about the sufficiency of the evidence and conclusions drawn. Lastly, several authors recommended changes to introductory psychology, most of which would reduce bias and indoctrination. In the rebuttal, I address several questions and concerns raised and review additional research in the process. While this research is further evidence of indoctrination, I will highlight how authors have been able to effectively navigate controversial topics.
Introductory Psychology: Embracing the Complexities and Controversies
I am grateful to all the scholars who took the time to respond to the target article. Some note limitations of the evidence and problems with the claim of political bias, some provide important context to the issue of bias, and some offer thoughtful suggestions about how to improve the presentation of material in Introductory Psychology. Unfortunately, some also misrepresent my arguments. While I cannot address every point made by the authors, I will attempt to address the abovementioned themes. Let me first address the assertion that I have failed to present sufficient evidence for political bias. Ermark and Plessner (this issue) argue that “the selection of those topics at best represents a biased sample if not an intentionally selected set to confirm the hypothesis and narrative.” Gollwitzer et al. (this issue) note, “There is no solid empirical evidence for the claims that liberal bias is causally responsible for the misrepresentation of studies and topics in textbooks and courses. Bartels merely illustrates the possibility of such a causal relationship with some anecdotal examples.” Lastly, Nolan and Cranney (this issue) note that, “The author makes bold accusations, but does not back them up with current data. Before making these charges, we would have expected an empirical investigation.”
In order to address the question of bias, I relied on data from the considerable published literature on misrepresentations in textbooks (Bartels, 2015; Bartels & Peters, 2017; Bartels & Schoenrade, 2021; Ferguson et al., 2018; Griggs, 2014; Griggs, 2017; Griggs et al., 2014; Sackett et al., 2004). Of the topics reviewed by Ferguson et al. (2018), textbook authors failed to present the following in an unbiased fashion: the narcissism epidemic, the “brainwashing” of Korean-War POWs, the notion that Broca's area was discovered by Broca. Though interesting, in terms of the contemporary political landscape, these topics are not relevant. The next two topics least likely to be presented in an unbiased fashion were stereotype threat (0% unbiased) and multiple intelligences (8.3%). These, as I argued in the target article, were politically relevant and thus were included in the review. A recent study conducted by Bartels and Schoenrade (2021) was also reviewed due to both the recency of the review and political relevance. As Jussim and Honeycutt (this issue) explain, the extent to which political bias can be inferred depends on several criteria including whether the study indicates a political narrative, the misinterpretation, or misrepresentation of results unjustifiably advance a particular politicized narrative, the authors systematically ignore papers and studies inconsistent with their ideology-affirming conclusions, and/or leapt to ideologically affirming conclusions based on weak data. Applying these criteria, Jussim and Honeycutt concluded that: “Except for topics that are not at all politicized (e.g. depression) most of the studies and topic areas reviewed in the target article pass Test 0, and at least one of the remaining tests.”
If I were conducting a study rather than reviewing existing studies, I would likely have considered the topics listed by Jussim and Honeycutt. The misrepresentations have been documented in the aforementioned studies and the target article was an attempt to explore a pattern in the misrepresentations. Thus, the suggestion by Gollwitzer et al. and Ermark and Plessner that the examples were selected to confirm the hypothesis or narrative is unfounded.
Nolan and Cranney (this issue) argue that the articles critical of the presentation of introductory psychology material were published between 2014 and 2018. They suggest that a sound empirical approach to addressing the question of bias would involve assessing the extent to which textbook critiques have been recognized by textbook authors. This is an interesting question, but the results of the proposed empirical analysis would neither confirm nor refute my central claim in the article. Moreover, I would not argue that bias will prevent corrections in textbooks indefinitely, at some point the weight of the evidence is overwhelming.
Ermark and Plessner (this issue) were critical of the use of “three example topics” to “prove” bias though they failed to indicate the sufficient number of topics. Also, as noted, my review was restricted by the existing literature. Allow me to introduce an additional topic, one noted by Jussim and Honeycutt (this issue) as useful in terms of assessing bias and recently examined by Bartels and Schoenrade (under review) in terms of textbook coverage. Though once again subject to the charge of confirmation bias, this topic is politically salient (students are likely to learn about microaggressions at their college or university outside of a psychology course if they do not already have an understanding of the term; Lilienfeld, 2017), would appear to be relevant material for social psychology textbook authors (Gollwitzer et al. argued that these controversial topics are likely presented in greater depth in subsequent psychology courses), and has received substantial criticism in articles published in 2017 and 2020 (e.g. Lilienfeld, 2017, 2019). The criticisms, similar in some ways to IAT criticisms, include the lack of a clear delineation of what constitutes a microaggression, lack of construct validity, the measurement of the construct, lack of falsifiability, reliance on correlational data, and disconnect from existing psychological science research. Bartels and Schoenrade recently examined the coverage of microaggressions in introductory and social psychology textbooks. Of the 22 Introduction to Psychology textbooks (published in North American in 2020 or later) included in the sample, 10 covered microaggressions. Bias was evident in the presentation of microaggressions in all but one textbook (eight were classified as biased and one as partially biased). I will return to the microaggression coverage to address concerns about how reasonable it is for introductory psychology textbooks to cover scholarly debate and, thus, the extent to which upper-division courses may more adequately address such debate.
Overstated Claims?
Several authors who responded to the target article have misrepresented, and in some cases, invented claims that I did not make. I claimed that political bias influences, not determines, how politically salient topics are covered in introductory psychology given the literature documenting misrepresentations in introductory psychology textbooks. I believe this was an appropriately cautious statement. Moreover, I discussed other reasons why misrepresentations happen. Interestingly, while some argued that my conclusions were not justified, they did not argue that the field is politically diverse. Is the notion that politically salient topics are covered in a way that bends toward the dominant political views of the field an extraordinary claim? Would it be hard to imagine that if the APA and APS were right-leaning organizations (i.e. right-wing or conservative), most instructors were right-leaning, and most textbook authors were right-leaning, that the dominance of right-wing thinking would have no bearing on the presentation of psychological research in (introductory) psychology textbooks? Perhaps this is why, despite some arguing that I failed to make my case and have overstated the problem, others, like Ferguson (this issue), find the conclusion less than surprising. As Lammers notes: “it is intuitively plausible that in their desire to present the relevance of the field for dealing with current societal issues, the authors of introductory textbooks (who are on average more likely to be politically liberal) selectively omit any critical perspectives.”
Additionally, I never argued that simplifying a study is always damaging nor did I argue that textbook authors should give students a full account of the entire scholarly discourse surrounding a particular study or topic. Simplification is not always bad and is, in fact, necessary in introductory psychology. Moreover, a full account of the entire scholarly discourse is neither practical nor desirable. These are strawmen and the false dichotomy is problematic. Why is it that one has to either simplify the study (excluding criticism) or present the full scholarly discourse? Why would one assume that textbook authors are not capable of simplifying criticism and parsimoniously capturing the substance of the debate? Here is an excellent example of how to accomplish this from Coon et al. (2022): The authors establish the importance of the topic, “Some psychological scientists have indicated that, over many years, exposure to microaggressions may compromise the self-esteem, health, and well-being of minority groups (Nadal et al., 2014; Williams, 2020).” Yet they frame it as a debate, “Others have pushed back on this idea…” They go on to address the areas of contention within the debate: “Specifically, debates about microaggressions are typically centered on how to best investigate microaggressions rigorously so that we can feel confident about the results of scientific research (Lilienfeld, 2019). For example, questions have been raised about how best to define a microaggression for the purposes of studying them. Should a comment be considered a microaggression if one person from a marginalized group finds it offensive, but another member of that same group does not? A second point of disagreement seems to focus on whether micro-aggressions should be seen as intentional slights intended to hurt and provoke, or whether they are better viewed as unintentional, and the result of a poor understanding or choice of words. The first interpretation would imply that microaggressions really are acts of aggression while the second would not, and this distinction may have important implications for the appropriate way to respond.” (p. 543)
This coverage of microaggressions is balanced in terms of fairly representing the areas of contention within the debate. Yet, it is also simplified. So, in this case I would agree with Gollwitzer et al., simplification is not indoctrination. Yet, other textbooks fail to capture this nuance: “These types of subtle, biased responses are often called microaggressions (Sue, 2010). Definitions vary, but in general microaggressions refer to often unintentional behaviors that slight members of a group, and can have harmful psychological consequences (Seaton et al., 2010; Sue, 2017; Williams, 2020a, 2020b). Not surprisingly, prejudice is linked with microaggressions. Research found that White people in the United States who score higher on measures of racial prejudice also tend to report a higher likelihood that they would engage in microaggressions.” (Hockenbury & Nolan, 2022, p. 412)
What is particularly interesting about this example is the selective citations. Sue's (2017) article is a response to Lilienfeld's (2017) critique of microaggressions research. Williams's (2020a, 2020b) articles are also responding to criticisms. Yet, neither Lilienfeld's articles (2017 or 2019) are cited nor are concerns he raised addressed. Applying the Jussim and Honeycutt (this issue) criteria, such a representation of microaggressions would appear to vindicate a political narrative (test 0). The authors also systematically ignore papers and studies inconsistent with their ideology-affirming conclusions (test 2). Though unnecessary, it may also pass test 3.
The difference between the two textbook presentations is striking and such dissimilarities have been documented in the coverage of other topics as noted in the target article. These disparities, the political salience of the topics, and the political homogeneity of the field raise questions about the influence of political bias in the communication of psychological science to introductory students.
Yet, Nolan and Cranney (this issue) suggest that I have made “bold accusations” and an “inflammatory charge” and published “what is, in effect, an untested accusation regarding the professional conduct of colleagues.” Ermark and Plessnar (this issue) similarly characterize my paper as a “severe allegation.” After accusing me of selecting topics that support the narrative and misrepresenting my argument (e.g. “a balanced presentation of diverse viewpoints is always beneficial and should be the ultimate goal”), Ermark and Plessnar note, “Bartels uses a rather harsh language when he already convicts textbook authors of indoctrination, a term that is commonly associated with harmful goals or used synonymous to brainwashing.” This kind of ad hominin rhetoric reduces a substantive argument to a personal attack, in effect, changing the subject. This is unfortunate, as my argument is not a personal attack on textbook authors or instructors and is driven by a genuine desire for an accurate representation of psychological science to students of introductory psychology. Arguing that some textbook authors report politically significant material in a way that is consistent with the political leanings of the field in which they are a part is far from a personal attack. On the contrary, rather than viewing authors as incapable of distilling a scholarly debate for an introductory audience, ill-informed or lazy, I believe this type of reporting is not necessarily deliberate in terms of forwarding a particular political worldview even though that may be the eventual result. This may be, as Bernstein notes, “more or less unintentional bias in favor of traditional interpretations of that research.” Likewise, Lilienfeld (2017) notes, “large swaths of contemporary social psychology are characterized by embedded values, typically of a politically progressive slant. The problem of embedded values arises when researchers are largely unaware of the extent to which their sociopolitical perspectives infiltrate their assumptions regarding scientific phenomena” (p. 145).
In the conclusion of the target article, I noted the suggestion of Hogan and Schroeder (1981) that the influence of political bias on textbooks is unconscious and went on to argue that the political homogeneity makes unintentional bias, in my estimation, all the more likely. It may be, as Bernstein notes, that misrepresentations are in some cases deliberate and driven by activism, in other cases represent "unintentional bias in favor of traditional interpretations of that research," or are the result of pressure to conform to institutional standards. Bernstein argues that instructors and authors feel pressure to present scientific research in a politically correct manner. The notion that textbook authors feel pressure from publishers to present material in fashion that conforms to Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) standards is troubling and intersects with Hayes’ argument that the “death of debate” is systemic as higher education pursues a therapeutic agenda (Ecclestone & Hayes, 2019). In such a climate, far from condemning or attacking textbook authors, I wish to express my respect for the increasingly challenging task they take on. In this climate, examples like the abovementioned in the Coon et al. text or in the Lilienfeld et al. (2018) introductory text, which includes an excellent discussion of IAT controversies, are all the more impressive. These examples and others, though unfortunately rare, expose students to critical thinking rather than indoctrination. Obviously talented textbook authors are capable of adequately distilling these complex topics for an introductory audience.
Why Introductory Psychology?
Gollwitzer et al. (this issue) argue that it is “didactically much more appropriate to reduce complexity about a topic in a first step (i.e. an introductory course)—even at the cost of oversimplifying it—and then discuss the details in a second step—after students have acquired a solid knowledge base.” This is intuitively reasonable, yet this rests on the assumption that the details are provided in subsequent courses and that there is no cost associated with oversimplification. In terms of the latter, it leaves students who will not take the second step, students not majoring in psychology, with a potentially inaccurate understanding of the topic. Griggs et al. (2014) and Bartels et al. (2016) found scant coverage of Stanford prison experiment (SPE) criticisms in social psychology textbooks and courses, respectively. To explore this possibility with respect to microaggressions, Bartels and Schoenrade examined the extent to which the topic and controversies are covered in social psychology textbooks. Of the 13 textbooks examined only five included any coverage of microaggressions and only one of these was free of bias (three were classified as biased and one as partially biased). It should also be noted that, far from clarifying and expanding on the controversies as was done in one introductory psychology textbook, the one social psychology textbook generously categorized as unbiased simply noted that the motivation for microaggressions is undetermined and thus they could be categorized as inadvertent racial slights (proposed by Lilienfeld, 2017). There was only one text that thoroughly noted the concerns about the microaggression research program. The authors (Heinzen & Goodfriend, 2022) are open about the concerns noting: “social scientists still haven’t decided exactly what they are, why they occur, or how they affect their targets. Science also hasn’t found a particularly valid or reliable intervention to stop or prevent them from happening” (p. 275). Yet, the authors, in the same section, note, “Real people are suffering from microaggressions while academics debate relatively trivial issues about terminology, the motivation behind microaggressions and what to do about them.” Not knowing how to define or measure psychological phenomena is not trivial. Lastly, it is worth noting that all but one of the textbooks that did not cover microaggressions, covered related topics, namely aversive racism, modern racism, and symbolic racism. Perhaps the authors not discussing microaggressions, in introductory or social psychology books, have done so on the merits of microaggression research critiques. Yet, the end result is that many introductory textbooks have presented the topic in a biased, oversimplified fashion and few social psychology textbooks are adding any nuance by fully exploring the significant concerns over microaggressions research. Thus, my response to the question “why introductory psychology” is that for many students, whether psychology majors or not, the introductory text may be their only exposure to microaggression research within psychological science. Given this, oversimplification is indeed a problem.
There is no Good Bias
Some responses to the article seem to be reacting to the “attack” on liberal bias. I was not arguing for more conservative bias and less liberal bias. Textbook accounts of psychological research should be as free from bias, conservative (right-wing) or liberal (left-wing), as possible. The notion that conservative bias, in some form, exists in psychology or in a field dominated by conservatives, however, unlikely, is no less troubling than left-wing bias in a left-leaning field. Arguing that conservative bias is likely in a conservative field, rather than refute my argument, would seem to support it. Nolen and Cranney (this issue) suggest that I should assess my own bias and this is a fair point. I acknowledge that bias may influence my research and teaching even when I make a conscious effort to eliminate it. Yet, as explored further below, the presence of bias does not necessitate abandoning the pursuit of objective truth. There are safeguards that can help reduce bias. Jussim and Honeycutt (this issue) suggest adversarial collaborations as one such measure. Additionally, it may be helpful for organizations dedicated to diversity of thought in higher education, such as Heterodox Academy, to rate or vet textbooks. Ensuring diversity of thought within the editorial boards of academic journals would also be a beneficial safeguard.
Changing the Subject
Nolan and Cranney (this issue) argue for psychological literacy as the pedagogical philosophy for undergraduate psychology. They argue, “many are calling for a revolution toward the teaching of skills and values—information literacy, scientific literacy, critical thinking, cultural competence, and ethical competence among them.” Dudgeon et al. (2018), as cited by Nolan and Cranney, argue that a “seismic shift is required in the culture and practice of psychology whereby the definitions of knowledge construction and education are de-colonized, challenged and contested” (p.123), and that “the education and training of psychology students and practitioners becomes an essential component of the change agenda, and psychological literacy within a de-colonized and critical pedagogy framework offers the methodology to achieve it.” Are psychological literacy and critical thinking rooted in critical pedagogy the antidote to indoctrination and the best way to change the subject? Critical pedagogy, an extension of critical theory, approaches education and science with profound skepticism, viewing both as a tool of oppression as is the very notion of objective truth in Western science (Kincheloe, 2008). Critical pedagogy, Giroux (2020) writes, is “a moral and political practice premised on the assumption that learning is not about processing received knowledge but about actually transforming it as part of a more expansive struggle for individual rights and social justice” (p. 83). Critical pedagogy is aimed at “socializing” students in terms of race consciousness, power relations, subjectivism, and activism. Critical theories, according to Hayes (2014): “…are ‘uncritical theories’. When some theory has the prefix ‘critical’ it requires the uncritical acceptance of a certain political perspective. Critical theory, critical race theory, critical race philosophy, critical realism, critical reflective practice all explicitly have political aims” (para. 9).
Though not addressing advocacy and social justice within education, Ferguson (2015) notes the conflict between advocacy and science: “The difficulty is that advocacy and science are diametrically opposed in method and aim. On an idealistic level, science is dedicated to a search for ‘truth’ theoretically even if that truth is undesired, inconvenient, unpalatable, or challenging to one's personal or the public's beliefs or goals. By contrast, advocacy is concerned with constructing a particular message in pursuit of a predetermined goal that benefits oneself or others. Fundamentally, because advocacy may be more immediately attention-getting than science, I propose that mixing science with advocacy almost inevitably ends in damage to the objectivity of the former.” (p. 533)
Promoting the value of objectivity and the separation of science and advocacy in the classroom can empower students to identify attempts at indoctrination. Unfortunately, the proposal by Nolan and Cranney (this issue) argues for an approach to psychological science education that honors neither science nor education. From this approach, criticism of a value-laden construct, regardless of scientific merit, would be characterized in antagonistic and uncharitable terms, thwarting dialogue and debate. I do not believe a “revolution” or “seismic shift” is necessary to reform the teaching of psychological science, at least not the kind called for by Nolan and Cranney.
As noted, some textbook authors have done an excellent job of capturing the nuance of a contentious topic in a politically neutral fashion. I have highlighted an example for the coverage of microaggressions. Likewise, Lilienfeld et al. (2018) describe the IAT as “scientifically controversial” and explain how proponents and critics of the measures view the low correlations between IAT scores and scores on measures of explicit prejudice. Such textbook content, if more prevalent across the introductory psychology landscape, effectively promotes genuine critical thinking skills and scientific literacy as does Bernstein's (this issue) proposal for a misconceptions-oriented course. A seismic shift would involve addressing systemic obstacles and challenging philosophical barriers to open inquiry and academic freedom noted by Bernstein, Ferguson, Hayes, Jussim, and Honeycutt. Textbook bias is a symptom of a much larger problem. Yet, thankfully, in spite of the many obstacles, there are textbook authors willing to expose students to, as Ferguson (this issue) so fittingly put it, the “complexities and controversies of psychology…” that “make our field so fascinating.”
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
