The ‘Do Your Own Research’ Fallacy

What happens when the research someone digests is flawed, inaccurate, misleading, or dogmatic?

Whenever we grapple with tough problems faced by our society, one of the most common refrains is “Do Your Own Research.”

On the one hand, this can be an invitation for the individual to learn more about a topic that’s new to them by delving into informed sources. The other side of the coin is that it’s often a lazy and condescending buzz phrase weaponized by know-it-alls to dismiss their critics.

In political debates, variations of the “Do Your Own Research” mantra get shouted by loyalists of personality-cults. We see it on the Hyperwoke Left (exemplified by the likes of Robin DiAngelo, Tim Wise, Michael Eric Dyson, Courtney E. Martin, and their sycophants). We see it from the Nationalist Alt-Right (brandished by Donald Trump, Paul Gosar, Marsha Blackburn, Tucker Carlson, and their ilk).

The main difference is that the former group abuses academia and governmental institutions in their attempts to indoctrinate. The latter group, by contrast, spreads its propaganda through talk radio and Fox News.

This isn’t a false equivalence. Both sides, here, are indeed equally to blame for the lack of nuance, civility, and critical thought amidst our discourse. They want to brainwash others so badly that they abandon rational dialogue in order to demonize anyone who disagrees with them.

One of the other few distinctions is that right-wing offenders of this mentality have more judicial and legislative allies lining up behind them, at present.

The leftist offenders don’t have quite the same leverage — but they are still culpable for their roles in helping to drive us to the toxic place in which we’re collectively stuck.

As a high schooler in the late-1990s, my first major foray into political activism was at the local level. My high school witnessed an intense divide over the matter of whether we should adopt block scheduling. Students, teachers, and even parents lined up on opposing sides of the debate: should we switch over to a four-period day of 90-minute class sessions, or stick with our traditional eight-period day of 45-minute class sessions?

My position was that our school should adopt a hybrid schedule: 90-minute periods juxtaposed alongside of 45-minute periods. Depending on which courses expanded their length and which of them maintained their existing length, a student could end up having anywhere from four to eight classes per day in their schedule (and most students would end up averaging five, six, or seven class periods, depending on their course selection).

I can’t take credit for this idea, as I didn’t dream it up all by myself. It was inspired by Ms. Perry, the seniormost art teacher at our school. As she put it:

“Why does everything have to be ‘all-or-nothing’? Why can’t we go half-block, half-not?”

Although I’d initially been resistant to the idea of block scheduling (and she and I verbally clashed, upon our first discussion over it), I quickly came around to embrace Ms. Perry’s mentality. The school’s younger and newer art teacher, Mrs. Reichenbach, had a much different take, though. She wanted everyone (i.e., all teachers of all academic courses) to switch to block scheduling in unison. Her perspective was shared by much of the faculty (often younger teachers and staffers), but not a clear majority.

One thing I remember Mrs. Reichenbach telling me, during one of our sharp disagreements, was her response to so many of the unanswered questions regarding how it would be implemented:

“This is why I think we all still need to do a lot more research,” she said.

Our school’s seniormost guidance counselor, Mr. Lee, was on Mrs. Reichenbach’s side of the debate. He actually gave me several online links focusing mainly on the benefits of block scheduling. When I used the same resources he gave me to discover arguments made by academic professionals who were skeptical of block scheduling, Mr. Lee dismissed all of THAT research, in short order.

I still vividly remember sitting across from Mr. Lee in his office. He was endlessly smirking while steeped in his smugness, as I was literally reduced to tears. To be fair, he probably had no idea that I suffered from autism. But, even if he had known…I’m not so sure he would have really cared.

He was the Robin DiAngelo of our school district.

Taking Mrs. Reichenbach’s advice of “doing my own research” didn’t benefit me — at least, not in Mr. Lee’s eyes, when he’d already decided which research he wanted to trust.

Later that year, I obtained permission to put out my own survey amongst the faculty about their opinions on block scheduling. I gave survey respondents three choices: keep our traditional schedule; put all teachers and students on a full block schedule; or implement a hybridized version combining shorter and longer class periods. A plurality of respondents (40%-45%) chose the hybrid option. Another one-third (30%-35%) favored full implementation. The remaining 25%-30% preferred keeping the status quo.

I could have (and probably should have) given them even more options. But this basic survey indicated there was no clear consensus in terms of solutions. Compare that to the earlier survey conducted by Mr. Lee (and one that was conducted by Mr. Taylor, our new principal, that following autumn). Both Mr. Lee and Mr. Taylor had worded their respective surveys in a more open-ended manner that gave respondents only two binary choices. They used that skewed data to make a case to the school board (in the end, successfully) that a majority of our faculty was onboard with full implementation.

This “political defeat” was so humiliating and disheartening for me that I left our school prior to the full implementation — finishing credits at the local tech college during what would have been my senior year, and then graduating early.

Nevertheless, despite my own initial skepticism against block scheduling — and my eventual bias in favor of crafting a compromise solution — in this case, “doing my own research” helped open my eyes to some of the positive benefits of an educational approach to which I’d previously been hostile.

“Doing my own research” just didn’t yield the one-sided results that Mr. Lee, Mrs. Reichenbach, and Mr. Taylor would have preferred to see me blindly absorb.

This was my first taste of ideological polarization and deception within consensus-building.

As I began my college undergraduate studies, I’d encounter more of this leftist archetype (such as from Jodi, a staffer and future administrator whom I referenced in my piece “The ‘Bootstraps’ Fallacy”). When I joined my fraternity as both a college-aged undergrad, and, in the long run, as a young adult alumnus, I would often run into the conservative or libertarian versions of that archetype (as espoused by our former Alumni Corporation Board President, Jason, whom I referenced in my piece “Calling Somebody ‘Simple’ Can Be Offensive”).

Yes, there is limited value in doing one’s own research. The question becomes how willing any of us are when it comes to learning and growing from evidence that may contradict our prejudices.

YouTuber and social influencer Chris Boutte believes that people often put too much trust in so-called experts. It’s important, he says, to employ a bit of healthy skepticism. Most experts, Boutte concludes, aren’t accurate — whether it’s meteorologists or stockbrokers or political scientists. This lack of accuracy can be attributed to human error. We should keep this in mind to prevent bad ideas from spreading, rather than obediently trusting an “appeal to authority” or our own selection biases.

Surgeon and oncologist David Gorski seems to agree. He cautions us against being too deferential when we “do our own research” — seeing how pseudoscience, hyperbole, and conspiracy theories tend to creep their way into the mentalities of even credentialed professionals. Dr. Gorski cites flawed research, confirmation bias, indoctrination attempts, and cherry-picking data as four major factors that may corrupt independent research.

So what can we do? I believe we should read dissimilar conclusions written by observers — and then, weigh the evidence. Keep in mind context…rather than relying on sweeping generalizations. Don’t be afraid to qualify data by challenging whether “exceptions” are actually as rare as some researchers might claim.

The key ingredients so often absent from this equation are: nuance, empathy, and critical thought.

In a November 2020 post-election study compiled for the Chicago Booth Review, writer Rose Jacobs reports on an “infodemic” recognized by the World Health Organization. This is where public trust in experts tends to erode as more and more so-called “experts” lack credibility or consistency. In addition, Jacobs points out how opinion can change as new information arises. We see this regularly, she reminds us, with economists and physicians.

Despite the politicization against Dr. Anthony Fauci, scientists are still generally held in high esteem vis-à-vis other professions. Jacobs finds that those considered to be experts may often start out with varying assumptions. Sometimes, she concedes, laypeople and amateurs may have good judgment — or even draw prophetic conclusions.

The kicker is how much we should trust ourselves — whether we’re an expert or a layperson — and when. Jacobs comments that experts are usually trusted if tough decisions or actions involving mortality need to be reached. And, even then, medical professionals can insert their subjective opinions into their advice to patients.

Jacobs concludes with the assessment that public mistrust of government is due to conservatives viewing the Left as bureaucrats while liberals view the Right as conspiracy theorists. In her research, she links political affiliation with corresponding news biases from decision-makers. Personal experience can also factor into consumer choices. Jacobs favors healthy skepticism as a natural part of the evidence-weighing process.

So keep your guard up if somebody tells you to “Do your own research.”

Are they too lazy to have a quality debate with you, because their assumptions and conclusions are so flimsy in the first place?

Do they tend to defer to the “expertise” of other people who’ve already constructed premises with which they are comfortable?

Could they assume that the research you find will probably line up with their favored opinions while validating their own prejudices?

Yes, do your own research…but do it with a cynical eye, while approaching problems and solutions from every angle.