I鈥檝e just released the 13th iteration of the annual RHSU Edu-Scholar rankings, an exercise designed to recognize those who are bringing research, scholarship, and scientific expertise into the public square. In doing so, I鈥檝e sought to honor serious researchers who leave the comfort of the ivory tower to share their particular expertise. The challenge: some scholars who are only too eager to use their credentials and platform to clothe personal agendas in the garb of 鈥渟cience.鈥�
This year, that tension loomed especially large. Indeed, the pandemic-era tendency to wield science as a partisan cudgel (think of all those pointedly progressive 鈥淲e believe science is real鈥� rainbow yard signs) has harmed public debate, education decisionmaking, and science itself.
In 2021, Gallup that 64 percent of U.S. adults said they had 鈥渁 great deal鈥� or 鈥渜uite a lot鈥� of confidence in science. That鈥檚 down 6 points from the last time Gallup asked that question, in 1975. Especially notable were the profound partisan shifts over time. In 1975, two-thirds of Democrats said they had confidence in science; by 2021, that had climbed to 79 percent. Meanwhile, trust fell among independents (from 73 percent to 65 percent) and plunged among Republicans (from 72 percent to 45 percent).
In response, Democrats have claimed to be the 鈥減arty of science.鈥� But this is far too flip. After all, with more than a little justification, many Republicans have come to doubt that scientific authorities are apolitical or that public officials will be scrupulous about interpreting the science.
Truth is, during the pandemic, science has been wielded in ways that often were less than scientific. Recall Georgia鈥檚 anti-Trump Republican governor, Brian Kemp, being in The Atlantic (鈥淕eorgia鈥檚 Experiment in Human Sacrifice鈥�) for pushing aggressively to reopen his state during the pandemic. Recall the vicious attacks on Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis for his push to reopen schools in fall 2020 or the factually suspect on his pandemic record. Meanwhile, recall the adulation lavished on New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo for a 鈥渟cientifically minded鈥� approach, which included covering up nursing home deaths and extended school closures.In retrospect, Kemp鈥檚 and DeSantis鈥� decisions appear pretty darn defensible on scientific grounds.
Look, the same Gallup poll reporting that 34-point gap between Republican and Democratic trust in science found an even larger 45-point gap when it came to trust in the police. Only, there, the Democrats are the skeptics. Of course, when it comes to policing, plenty of academics, progressives, and would-be criminal-justice reformers explain that such skepticism is wholly deserved and that it鈥檚 on law enforcement to change practices and policies in order to regain trust.
Just so. The same holds when it comes to science. And it looks to those on the right like the research community has broken faith by aggressively seeking to stigmatize or stymie whole lines of research when it comes to topics like crime, family status, or gender. That dynamic was on vivid display when right-leaning physicians and researchers who opposed school closures or toddler masking were smeared as 鈥渟cientifically illiterate鈥� and dangerous purveyors of 鈥渕isinformation鈥濃�攅ven after the emerging evidence suggested their views were, at a minimum, reasonable and defensible.
Now, let鈥檚 be clear. During the pandemic, there was certainly anti-vaxxing, pro-Ivermectin madness on the right. The point is not that one party or the other is the actual 鈥減arty of science鈥�; it鈥檚 that science has no interest in our partisan disputes.
Science isn鈥檛 a badge to be worn; it鈥檚 a commitment to inquiry, the pursuit of truth, and systematic testing of theories against evidence. Indeed, I wouldn鈥檛 say that those who pushed to keep schools closed were 鈥渋gnoring the science,鈥� even as research increasingly made clear that the health risks of reopening were modest, especially after the arrival of vaccines, and the social, emotional, and academic consequences of closure were immense. That鈥檚 because such decisions are inevitably prudential and must be informed by local circumstances and imperfect attempts to weigh competing risks.
Those who鈥檇 claim to carry the mantle of science must work daily to deserve that honor. That means asking uncomfortable questions, scrutinizing studies (even when researchers like the results), acknowledging personal biases, and admitting errors or uncertainty. It means recognizing that, much of the time, crucial decisions will and must be value-driven鈥攏ot merely 鈥渟cientific.鈥�
Indeed, those who鈥檇 still insist that respect for science is a Democratic thing might want to reflect on the contentious debate about the best way to teach reading. There, it鈥檚 Republicans who have long championed the phonics-heavy approach spelled out in one of the National Reading Panel鈥檚 reports and progressives who鈥檝e been skeptics of that scientific consensus. Indeed, recall that early in the pandemic, the left-leaning National Education Policy Center and the Education Deans for Justice and Equity a report declaring, 鈥淭he truth is that there is no settled science of reading.鈥� As cognitive psychologist Daniel Willingham, the author of The Reading Mind, , 鈥淭his claim doesn鈥檛 hold up to even passing familiarity with the literature.鈥�
Researchers, educators, and citizens all err when we imagine that science should be understood as a partisan affair.
After all, science is a cumulative project. It took decades of work, by lots of researchers in lots of settings, to convincingly make the case that smoking a lot of cigarettes was bad for your health鈥攊n large part because the scientific process also included drawn-out clashes with industry-funded scientists committed to debunking the evidence about the health risks of smoking.
It鈥檚 fair to say that we鈥檝e arrived at something like that in reading, where decades of research have yielded something of a broad-based consensus. But we鈥檝e no such clarity around the vast majority of educational interventions鈥攁nd certainly not around how they actually work on the ground. Let鈥檚 be straight about that with parents, educators, and communities.
The frustrating truth is that the research on many educational questions鈥攆rom the impact of race-based affinity spaces to 鈥攊s either scarce or wholly unsettled.
Let鈥檚 ask researchers to work harder to separate their professional roles and personal beliefs when it comes to partisan and ideological debates. In their professional roles, we expect doctors, attorneys, engineers, and educators to set aside their personal agendas. Education researchers should do the same, rigorously distinguishing between the evidence and their judgments.
If we can manage this, I鈥檝e a sneaking suspicion it鈥檒l be healthy for students, schools, and science alike.
