Assumptions in Psychology Reporting (2)

Recap: Assumptions about science that filter into Psychological Reporting

Last time, we started our exploration of assumptions in psychology reporting by understanding a bit about how science works. We discussed the difference between science as a whole, and the data it relies on. We discussed how science is ultimately storytelling about who we are, how we work, and our role in the universe. And since storytelling is subjective and dependent on cultural assumptions and perspectives, therefore the science in any given moment is also subjective. The data may not lie, no; but how we understand what data is valid, where it comes from, what’s missing, and what stories we can interpret from it rely on subjective assumptions that most definitely can lie.

In the previous section, I gave a couple of examples of public writings about science and some of the unscientific biases I found in them. I will now give examples from some trade publications, as well.

Article: Dyslexia and biological determinism

Here is a misleading quote that uses a common type of phrasing, from an article on dyslexia from the Monitor on Psychology (55(6), 2024, p. 45): “Genetics also plays a role in determining who developed dyslexia. Twin and family studies indicate that genes explain 40% to 60% of the risk for developing dyslexia (Gialluisi, A., et al., molecular psychiatry, vol 26, no 7, 2021).” This is a simple statement, and seems pretty self-evident, right? What’s the problem? I will leave aside the many assumptions that have gone into twin studies that raise a lot of questions about validity. Let’s accept that for now. The assumptions I want to highlight are more about levels and methods of explaining.

These studies gather their statistical conclusions by looking at how outcomes vary along with their areas of interest. They identify important environmental factors, statistically hold these constant, and then assess how change in genes corresponds to change in dyslexia. But hold on. Can you separate it out this simply? There’s a problem of levels. Genes encode proteins. Dyslexia is not a protein. To get from genes to dyslexia, you have many interacting layers, with multitudes of environmental factors coordinating with biological factors to upgrade and downgrade, turn on and off, shift outcomes in a variety of ways. And what is environmental at one layer, is biological at the next. These interactions and shifts blow apart any ability to interpret what that 40-60% means. Not to mention the simplicity to imagine that any such research has ever actually accounted for the variety of environmental influences at play.

Stepping back to identify assumptions about dyslexia

Let’s do a thought experiment. Let’s say a Head Start program in Minnesota develops a new intervention for its 3 year-olds, that fits perfectly into the developmental style of kids who otherwise might have later received a dyslexia diagnosis, but instead they click with reading in a new way. The variance of genetics on dyslexia outcome dramatically increase, because those still diagnosed would only be those where genetic causal factors are most directly influential. How would we interpret this finding? Would we say the 40-60% is wrong, and now bringing in this new data, it’s actually 80%? Would we say that genetics work differently in Minnesota? These studies assume that interventions like this are impossible, but findings regularly show that they are not. Variance regularly changes when you look across time, location, access, and culture.

Even more assumptions: What is dyslexia?

Which leads to the next problem: how we explain. What is dyslexia? Sure, it has biological underpinnings. Everything we do has biological underpinnings. But dyslexia is not a gene, or a protein: it is an individual’s interaction with the process of socially making meaning from visual squiggles. Genes play no direct role in this. The role of genetics is very distant from what is happening here. Nevertheless, due to various historical prejudices, we often try to explain very different types of things with biology. We assume that genetics are of primary importance in every human problem out there.

In doing so, we spend lots of effort trying to change relatively minor factors we have very little understanding of or control over, and lose sight of factors right in front of our faces through which we can have enormous impact. In fact, I’d say that we have more power, through innovating how we work with people experiencing dyslexia, to change underlying genetics. And we’d improve the lives of so many more people in the process.

Article: Emotional fear-mongering

Continuing to explore assumptions in psychology reporting, here’s an article from a newsletter for healthcare employees (Northwell Focus on Behavioral Health, vol 2 2024). The article writes, “Ten days after her admission, she walked back into her life with a paper bag of her belongings and a plan for more treatment to help her cope with the feelings that previously had drowned her.” (p. 5). Sounds dramatic – and powerful. These treatment coping strategies sound like life preservers: without them, the feelings might drown the person. Clearly this is metaphor, not literal. However, metaphor for what? What is the implication? The story I read here is that emotions are dangerous. After all, aren’t many psychiatric diagnoses named for emotions? Anxiety disorders, depressive disorders. Even happiness gets manic disorders. All the time, I hear people say they suffer from anxiety, or depression.

There’s a synergy here, with public culture and psychiatric scientists feeding back and forth the message that emotions are harmful. I’ve addressed this in a previous post. In summary, emotions are information, meant to guide how we respond to complex situations. They are the messengers, and we’ve been shooting off reams of bullets at them for a long time.

Effective Listening to Emotions

Let’s return to the woman in the article. What were the emotions doing? They were pointing out something wrong with how her life was going. Perhaps something crucial that was missing; or possibly, something big she was trying for, that her body believes was out of her capacity to achieve, and may therefore harm her to try for. When something is going wrong, our emotions can be quite strong, to make sure we pay attention. Don’t look away, do something about it! the body is saying. Now it should be noted – I’m not saying the message is accurate to the situation. Our messages come from past situations, and our lives are not static. Who we are, who we’re with, where we are, all these things change.

If the emotion doesn’t apply – no problem! We can say, “Thanks. I’m good.” And move on. If it does apply, then hopefully, ideally, those coping skills that the woman is walking out with aren’t just to manage the emotion. Hopefully they help her to figure out what she’s looking for, and light a path to achieve it.

Here’s a proposed edit to the article: “Ten days after her admission, she walked back into her life with a paper bag of her belongings and a plan of engagement with her life, to tackle the challenging circumstances that previously had felt like they were drowning her.”

Summary: Storytelling makes assumptions

We’ve looked at articles meant for everyone, and articles meant for healthcare workers. For each, I’ve pointed out some of the assumptions that go into the stories being told. These are fundamental assumptions, about who we are, how we work, where to focus our efforts, and what can and cannot be changed to improve our lives. Questioning these assumptions is very hard, because you have to know where to look. I’ve been going over the ones I know to look for. You might be reading this and saying, “Hold on! Don’t you realize you’re making this other assumption?” And guess what? You’re probably right!

The more we listen to each other, the more we can overcome these assumptions and help each other live more fulfilling, productive, and happy lives.