Given the indisputable fact that social psychology has been dominated by liberal ideals, Duarte et al. suggest that the field would be better off if practitioners were a more representative sample of the population in terms of politics. A broader historical and psychological context is needed in order to evaluate this suggestion. The political agenda of social psychology has been shaped by historical events. In 1979 Dorwin Cartwright wrote: “If I were required to name the one person who has had the greatest impact upon the field, it would have to be Adolf Hitler” (Cartwright Reference Cartwright1979, p. 84). In addition to Nazism in Europe, the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War had a formative effect. The Kitty Genovese murder in 1964 led (rightly or wrongly) to bystander-effect research. None of these seems as subversive as work on the Just World illusion (Lerner Reference Lerner1980). Would a conservative-majority social psychology have produced another body of research? Naturally.

The analysis needs to start with the fact that all academics, not just psychologists, diverge significantly from the general population in terms of beliefs and ideals, and this may be linked to their career commitments. This is a statistical generalization, allowing for concrete exceptions, but still a strong one. A liberal majority dominates most disciplines, including economics, physics, biology, engineering, business, and law (Cardiff & Klein Reference Cardiff and Klein2005; Klein & Stern Reference Klein, Stern, Maranto, Redding and Hess2009; Klein & Western Reference Klein and Western2005). The association between academic aspirations and politics was evident in a 2004 survey of 15,569 undergraduates. Before starting college, 19% of liberal undergraduates were interested in getting a Ph.D., whereas conservatives were under 10%. While in college, 33% of conservatives chose professional fields, and only 18% of liberals (Woessner & Kelly-Woessner Reference Woessner, Kelly-Woessner, Maranto, Redding and Hess2009).

Neither do the target article authors mention that the findings about the politics of academics rather unsurprisingly run parallel to findings about their religiosity, which show a similar degree of nonconformity. These are highly relevant because religiosity correlates so clearly with politics. Surveys of religiosity among academics in the United States, starting in 1914, have consistently shown a huge gap separating them from the general population (Ament Reference Ament1927; Ecklund & Park Reference Ecklund and Park2009; Ecklund & Scheitle Reference Ecklund and Scheitle2007; Gross & Simmons Reference Gross and Simmons2009; Lehman & Witty Reference Lehman and Witty1931; Leuba Reference Leuba1916). Recent surveys of elite faculty found 63.7% non-believers, compared to under 5% in the general population. Of the population, 14% were “evangelical”/”fundamentalist,” but they were under 2% among academics (Ecklund & Scheitle Reference Ecklund and Scheitle2007; Gross & Simmons Reference Gross and Simmons2009). Findings from outside the United States have been similar (Beit-Hallahmi Reference Beit-Hallahmi2015).

Gross and Fosse (Reference Gross and Fosse2012) argued that the liberalism of academics is causally tied to an over-representation of Jewish (i.e., secular), non-religious, or liberal Protestant individuals among them. Gross and Simmons (Reference Gross and Simmons2006) found that conservative politics, Republican Party affiliation, and evangelical identity were tied to lower confidence in higher education and holding professors in lower esteem. Granger and Price (Reference Granger and Price2007) found that fundamentalist beliefs reduced the likelihood of pursuing science training, and Sherkat (Reference Sherkat2011) reported that Catholics and conservative Protestants had low levels of science literacy.

Research on eminent scientists in both the natural and the social sciences has shown that they had been recognized early on as unusually gifted, anti-authoritarian, and contemptuous of convention and tradition (Eiduson Reference Eiduson1962; Eiduson & Beckman Reference Eiduson and Beckman1973; Feist Reference Feist2006; Roe Reference Roe1952). Political views, career interests, and religious identities stabilize in late adolescence, when religious and political non-conformists, marked by intellectualism (a high level of analytical, non-intuitive thinking), start moving towards academic careers (Ecklund Reference Ecklund2010; Elchardus & Spruyt Reference Elchardus and Spruyt2009; Hardy Reference Hardy1974; Highton Reference Highton2009; Hoge & Keeter Reference Hoge and Keeter1976).

Quite early on, an “eminence effect” was noted, with more eminent scientists in all fields being irreligious. James Leuba wrote, “I do not see any way to avoid the conclusion that disbelief in a personal God and in personal immortality is directly proportional to abilities making for success in the sciences in question” (Leuba Reference Leuba1916, p. 279). Among members of the U.S. National Academy of Sciences in biological and physical sciences, many of them Nobel Laureates, only 7% believed in a personal God, while in the general population the corresponding figure hovers around 95% (Larson & Witham Reference Larson and Witham1998). Data on Nobel Laureates in all fields, including Peace and Literature, show similar trends (Beit-Hallahmi Reference Beit-Hallahmi2015). An international intellectual (secular) elite was a reality before 1900, as demonstrated by data on early Nobelists (Beit-Hallahmi Reference Beit-Hallahmi2015). Most winners before 1920 had been born before 1850, and were no more religious than laureates 100 years later.

Lipset (Reference Lipset1982) argued that academic excellence was tied to nonconformity in both religion and politics, and that the most eminent were in the radical left corner. Bello (Reference Bello1954) interviewed 87 promising research scientists under age 40. The majority were irreligious, and almost no one voted for Dwight Eisenhower in 1952. More recently, in a 2005 study, the correlation between eminence and politics was demonstrated by data on the Democrat/Republican ratio at California universities. At UC Berkeley it was 8.7:1; at UCLA, 7.2:1; at Stanford, 6.7:1; at UCSD, 6.6:1; and, even at Caltech (supposedly dominated by conservative, but brilliant, engineers), it was 4.2:1. Less prestigious California institutions had more Republicans (Cardiff & Klein Reference Cardiff and Klein2005).

Could the ethnic/religious/political composition of the social psychology tribe (or the nuclear physics tribe) change significantly in the foreseeable future? Research on Catholic under-representation in academia offers relevant data. Greeley (Reference Greeley1963; Reference Greeley1973; Reference Greeley1977; Reference Greeley1990) challenged received wisdom and presented data showing that, since the 1960s, Catholics had the same rates of graduate degrees as others, and were just as likely to enter the academic world. Fifty years later, Catholics, who make up more than 25% of the population, are indeed well-represented among holders of advanced degrees (27.9%), but significantly under-represented among elite faculty (9.0%) (Ecklund & Park Reference Ecklund and Park2009). Internationally, data on Nobel Laureates show a severe under-representation of Catholics in all fields except Literature (Beit-Hallahmi Reference Beit-Hallahmi2015). This case shows that cultural change is slow and unpredictable, and in the foreseeable future we will meet the usual suspects in both physics and social science.

Duarte et al. cite approvingly Robert Merton's “ideal-type model of a self-correcting epistemic community” (sect. 6.3, para. 2) but fail to notice that choosing it is a political act. Merton (Reference Merton and Merton1942/1973) advocated an anti-authoritarian weltanschauung, derived from Enlightenment ideals (or even an Enlightenment political program). Hollinger (Reference Hollinger1996) showed that Merton's portrayal of the academic ethos was developed in the context of the fight for democracy in the 1930s and 1940s. In social science, an ethos based on universalism and skepticism cannot be easily insulated from substantive questions. Wishing to find a new inspiration, Duarte et al. find themselves back where social science started – at the Enlightenment.