When, in 1977, the sociologist Julius Gould published a report on “Marxist and radical penetration” in UK higher education, the response within sociology, and social science generally, was to dismiss it as hysterical nonsense coming from the political Right.
There was truth in this: the report was produced under the auspices of “The Institute for the Study of Conflict”, which had allegedly been funded by the CIA as part of the fight against communism, and it involved a variety of noted right-wing academics. Yet factual claims made in Gould’s report matched the declared aim of some on the Left to mount a “long march through the institutions” and to work as “organic intellectuals” on behalf of socialism.
The Left is rather different today: “socialist” has often been replaced by “anti-capitalist”, and there is an attempt to incorporate a range of other radical movements – from feminism to trans-activism, anti-racism to disability rights. Nevertheless, in many parts of social science, what we can call Leftist assumptions are strongly entrenched. In my own subject, sociology, there are very few researchers who have neoliberal or conservative political views – or, at least, who are willing to disclose them. And their work is frequently ignored or dismissed.
While my own political commitments are on the Left, I believe this asymmetry has had undesirable consequences, as evidenced by Christian Smith’s 2014 book, The Sacred Project of American Sociology. First, it allows much to be taken for granted that ought to be questioned. Second, it encourages illegitimate attempts to turn academic research into a vehicle for “critique” directed at socio-political transformation.
This undermines research quality because the complexity of social issues, and the uncertainties surrounding our knowledge, tend to be neglected as a result. It also seriously damages social science’s intellectual authority in wider society since science cannot legitimately claim to produce evaluative conclusions. (Much the same criticisms can be made of economists’ neoliberal policy pronouncements.)
Aside from this, there is a failure to recognise how difficult it is to bring about significant socio-political change and how such efforts can easily produce unintended and unwanted results. Journal articles will rarely be socially “transformative”, but those directed towards this goal certainly distort academic research. Of course, we all hope our work will have beneficial consequences; indeed, this may be our motive for being researchers. However, that is very different from doing research in such a way as to challenge or overturn the status quo (or, for that matter, to preserve it).
A recent experience illustrates the problem. A couple of years ago, an academic journal concerned with research methods, to whose editorial board I belonged, accepted a proposal for a special issue on “racially-just epistemologies and methodologies that disrupt whiteness”. I pointed out to the editors that this concept carried the (at least questionable) implication that existing epistemologies and methodologies are all racially unjust and “white”, including those discussed in many previous issues of the journal. Furthermore, there was the broader question of whether it makes sense to treat epistemologies or methodologies as “white” or “black”. I suggested these matters needed some attention in the special issue.
The proposal went ahead largely unchanged, however. So, in an attempt to make sure that some of these questions were covered, I submitted an article highlighting them. I did this by discussing an influential African American anthropologist, Allison Davis, who in the 1960s had adopted epistemological and methodological assumptions of the kind now being condemned. The paper was rejected on the grounds that it was an attempt to “subvert” the special issue.
The journal editors (different from those of the special issue) suggested my paper could be published in a later issue, and this may well happen. But the main point is that, on this occasion, the normal process of academic critical engagement with ideas was suppressed on political grounds (ironically, by people who claim to adopt a “critical” stance). When the contents of the special issue were published, they confirmed my fears. And when a further comment article of mine was rejected, I from the editorial board.
My objection was not to the special issue’s examination of epistemologies and methodologies in terms of racial justice, but rather to the way that it simply assumed that all previous epistemologies and methodologies are products of imperialism or racism, and therefore both defective and offensive. Above all, I objected to the fact that questions about these assumptions were treated as subversive, and suppressed.
It is, of course, by no means only those on the Left who attempt to suppress views they disagree with. But, while most of us protest when the Right does this, we tend to turn a blind eye when the cause being protected is one we support.
What is required by way of remedy is not “political balance”, but, rather, that social science communities focus exclusively on what is supposed to be their unique, and far from easy, task: producing knowledge. Today, there are threats to this commitment from both sides of the political divide.
Martyn Hammersley is emeritus professor of educational and social research at the Open University.
Print headline: Political bias is eroding social science’s quality and intellectual authority
