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Psychology Is a Science, Not an Opinion

The art of avoiding conjecture.

 Sam Balye/Unsplash
Source: Sam Balye/Unsplash

Buried about eight pages into the entertaining work of art that is my introductory psychology syllabus, you’ll find the following: “Keep in mind that this is a science class. Conclusions and discussions need to be evidence-based and academically relevant.”

Psychology lends itself to opinion. After all, most students are drawn to their first psychology course thinking that they’ll get to talk about schizophrenia and “fun stuff” all semester long. By the second or third textbook chapter, usually research or biological foundations of behavior, they realize this is something much, much different than they assumed.

I constantly comment on assignments that one can’t agree or disagree with research findings. “I disagree with the findings, because…” No, the scientists found what they found. Those are the findings. And yet, every semester, students tell me they disagree that, for example, 200 out of 350 college students report that they secretly love country music. (OK, I completely made that one up.)

What you’re trying to tell me, I comment, is that you don’t like country music. That’s your opinion and I’m so very sorry to say this, but it doesn’t matter.

 Windows/Unsplash
Source: Windows/Unsplash

Your Opinion Doesn’t Matter

In a psychology course, your opinion doesn’t matter. Let me rephrase that: A psychology course is not the place to share one’s opinion, unless asked. And if asked, that opinion should be academically, scientifically informed.

Of course we make room for opinion in psychology courses from time to time, but professors don’t need (or want) to hear your uninformed opinion. Believe it or not, everything we do is aligned with student learning outcomes. We want you to learn and allowing endless conjecture doesn’t get you there. That’s what makes it a classroom and not Facebook.

Conjecture? My students never know what this term means, and I use it all the time. You know, when you’re absolutely certain about something, like that all professors spend their time watching Netflix and eating bonbons? (Yeah, that’s not true, either.)

Conjecture is basically uninformed opinions. I tell my students it’s making a claim without any evidence to back it up. Often, these claims are grand, sweeping statements. Some common to my classes include:

  • All bullies lack empathy. They wouldn’t bully if they knew how it made their victims feel.
  • People who were “raised right” by their parents won’t end up in jail … and vice versa.
  • All abused children will become child abusers. They will emulate their abusive parents.

Evidence refutes the above claims. Sure, it’s possible that each may be true in some cases, but conjecture often comes with overgeneralization: Every ______ will ______. All ________ behave in this way. It’s rife with stereotypes, isms, and, what I simply call “the bad stuff”—what we work against in psychology.

 Dollar Gill/Unsplash
Source: Dollar Gill/Unsplash

The Solution to Conjecture

So, what can be done about conjecture? No professor expects their students know all of the things. We do, however, hope that they will recognize that they don’t know all of the things.

In my experience, the students who unremittingly include conjecture in their comments and assignments are the ones who really, truly believe they are right and are offended when I ask what evidence they have to support their claims.

“I know I’m right because my grandmother told me!” Alright, alright. Hey, I’m all about honoring individual and cultural wisdom, I’m just saying that we’re in a science class and the science doesn’t support that claim.

Sure, there are always outliers—exceptions to the rule—but research findings are research findings. We can question them, but it’s not a personal attack to point out inconsistency between claims and evidence. In the scientific world, we’re looking for a little humility.

A Little Humility

We all, students or not, acknowledge that we don’t know everything. Some of us may be more familiar with the literature on certain topics, but we haven’t memorized all evidence for everything. So we temper our language, demonstrating humility, when we make claims:

  • “It may be that…”
  • “A possible explanation could be…”
  • “Perhaps…”

Even a simple “I think” signals that a person’s avoiding conjecture, and acknowledging opinion.

I know it doesn’t sound very empowering to encourage students to temper their language. But in this case it’s necessary, and we all do it. The difference is that scientists and academics try to avoid conjecture altogether. We don’t want to make claims unless we know they are supported by evidence. And if they aren’t, we’re probably in the process of producing that evidence (e.g., research).

Science Isn’t Science Without Evidence

If humility doesn’t sound great, or sufficient, there are more options: Acknowledging anecdotes (e.g., “This is just a personal example…”), conceding that correlation (relationship) does not imply causation, and the like. The point is, psychology is a science. As fun as it may be to live without evidence, this science wouldn’t survive without it.

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