Cheney’s “safe-legal-effective” catechism is all too familiar to psychologists like me. It’s three-quarters of a phrase that has defined professional psychology’s decade-long ethical tailspin in the national security sector since the attacks of 9/11. And hearing these words again, I recalled an earlier interview with Stephen Behnke, Director of the Ethics Office of the American Psychological Association (APA). In August 2005, Amy Goodman of Democracy Now! asked Dr. Behnke to explain the conclusions of the APA’s then newly released Presidential Report on Psychological Ethics and National Security (PENS). The Report advocated the continuing involvement of psychologists in the interrogation of national security detainees. Dr. Behkne offered this summary: “The Task Force said that psychologists must adhere, and they used four words to describe psychologist involvement: safe, legal, ethical, and effective” (emphasis added).

In that same 2005 interview, Dr. Behnke also emphasized, “The Task Force states that psychologists have an absolute ethical obligation never to violate any United States law” (emphasis added). Here a similar point was made by President George W. Bush himself, a week before leaving the White House. In a Fox News interview with Brit Hume in January 2009, Bush explained, “I firmly reject the word ‘torture’…. Everything this administration did…had a legal basis to it, otherwise we would not have done it…. Everything we did was in consultation with professionals in our government who understand… how to use techniques in a way that gets information… within the law, necessary to protect the American people” (emphasis added).

These two examples of parallel messages — from the highest officials in the Bush Administration on the one hand and from the highest ethics official in the APA on the other — may seem surprising. But this is no coincidence at all. The PENS Report was drafted by Dr. Behnke and hastily approved by an “emergency” vote of the APA Board that bypassed the organization’s normal governance procedures. The Report was little more than APA’s official endorsement of already operative military/intelligence guidelines. Indeed, all members of the PENS Task Force were made aware, on the first day of their meeting, that Department of Defense (DoD) standard operating procedures described the mission of Behavioral Science Consultants (i.e., psychologists) working at Guantanamo Bay in this way: “Provide psychological consultation in order to support safe, legal, ethical, and effective detention and interrogation operations” (emphasis added). Yes, that same phrase once again.

The “Do No Harm” principle is central to the APA’s Ethics Code. Given prior reports that psychologists had been involved as planners, researchers, and overseers of abusive national security detainee interrogations, the PENS Task Force should have expressed grave concerns about the role of psychologists in such settings. But that would have required an unbiased, open, and honest deliberative process. Sadly, the actual PENS process was none of these things. From the start, the illegitimacy was rooted in the extreme bias represented by the composition of the Task Force itself. Six of the nine voting members worked for U.S. military or intelligence agencies (and five of them had served in chains of command involved in purported detainee abuse). This illegitimacy was further reinforced by serious, undisclosed conflicts of interest, including the unreported participation of high-level APA staff involved in lobbying military/intelligence agencies for psychology funding. In addition, the APA leadership prohibited the Task Force members from even discussing the PENS process or Report with interested APA members, media representatives, or the general public. These and other irregularities have raised serious and unanswered questions about the purpose, independence, and integrity of the Task Force’s agenda.

With the PENS Report, the APA departed from the international human rights standards that should guide the ethical conduct of all major healthcare organizations. In recent years, rank-and-file APA members — not the APA Board or Ethics Committee — have taken the lead in efforts to limit the damage from the PENS Report’s endorsement of psychologists’ involvement in detainee operations. Most noteworthy, a member-initiated referendum was passed in 2008. This new policy officially prohibits psychologists from working in settings that violate international law or the U.S. Constitution unless they are “working directly for the persons being detained or for an independent third party working to protect human rights” (or unless they are providing treatment for military personnel). However, the APA leadership has failed to actively pursue implementation of this membership referendum.

Despite the efforts of thousands of dissident APA members and non-member psychologists alike, the PENS Report continues to have significant operational influence within national security and psychology settings. For example, the PENS Report remains a standard reference in the instructions that the DoD provides to psychologists involved in intelligence operations. Similarly, the PENS Report is the foundational ethics document for some psychologists attempting to establish “operational psychology” as an official APA area of specialization, spanning counterintelligence and counterterrorism operations. And in the APA Ethics Committee’s new online national security “casebook” commentary, the PENS Report is referenced repeatedly in guidance to psychologists on ethical decision-making.

In recognition of the PENS Report’s underlying illegitimacy and its ongoing destructive effects, the Coalition for an Ethical Psychology has organized a new online petition campaign calling for the Report’s official annulment by the APA. The effort has already galvanized supporters in the psychological, medical, legal, military/intelligence, and human rights communities, and broader outreach to concerned members of the public throughout the world is now underway. To date, 16 organizations — including Psychologists for Social Responsibility, Physicians for Human Rights, the American Civil Liberties Union, and two of APA’s own divisions (the Society for Humanistic Psychology and the Executive Committee of the Society for Theoretical and Philosophical Psychology) — have endorsed the annulment call. Over 600 individuals with diverse backgrounds have signed the petition as well. Included among the early signers are Philip Zimbardo, Stephen Xenakis, Noam Chomsky, Robert Jay Lifton, Daniel Ellsberg, Leonard Rubenstein, Tom Hayden, two members of the PENS Task Force (Jean Maria Arrigo and Michael Wessells), and two current candidates for APA president (Steven Reisner and Donald Bersoff).

APA leadership has a history of stonewalling on these deeply disturbing issues, and its resistance to transparency, accountability, and organizational change highlights the imposing challenge of overturning the PENS Report. But this annulment effort unmistakably has some early momentum. Each day it aims to bring new voices and broader awareness to the critical choices upon which both the well-being of a profession and the protection of human rights depend.

All individuals interested in signing the petition can do so at www.ethicalpsychology.org/pens, where they can read the petition and additional background documentation and review the complete list of current organizational and individual signers. Organizations interested in signing on should contact the Coalition for an Ethical Psychology at coalition@ethicalpsychology.org.

They all understand that their happiness, the beauty of their city, the tenderness of their friendships, the health of their children, the wisdom of their scholars, the skill of their makers, even the abundance of their harvest and the kindly weathers of their skies, depend wholly on this child’s abominable misery.

Although we may be tempted to look for parallels between this troubling tale and the ills of contemporary U.S. society, our attention should instead be drawn to two striking differences. First, whereas in Omelas one child tragically suffers for the welfare of everyone else, in the United States today many, many more children are abandoned to a metaphorical cellar — not for the greater good, but merely to preserve or enhance the lives of a privileged relative few. Second, the distressing arrangement is unalterable in Omelas, fixed in place by the author’s construction. In our world, the current system instead reflects an outrageous lack of political will and courage.

Who are our country’s cellar-dwelling children? They include the child whose parents have lost their jobs and cannot find the work needed to pay the bills and keep their home. They include the child whose future prospects and enthusiasm for learning have been crushed by too many days in the overcrowded classrooms of an underfunded school. They include the child denied life-transforming treatment for a debilitating illness because her family could not find affordable health insurance. And they include the child whose entire young life has been spent in the shadows of poverty and hopelessness. Of course it’s not only millions of children who are shuttered in the dark underground. But focusing on our country’s youth hopefully enables us to bypass the litany of “blame the victim” talking points that present extreme inequality as good and “free markets” as just distributors of merit-based rewards.

Yet at a time when the top 1% of Americans control a staggering 40% of the country’s wealth, many of our most powerful politicians and their influential backers and lobbyists are now working — in Washington, DC and in state capitols around the country — to promote deficit reduction strategies targeting the social service and safety net programs that are lifelines for so many. If these efforts succeed, even more of us — children, working families, the ill, the elderly — will soon find ourselves relegated to this ever-expanding metaphorical cellar.

In the press and on talk shows these leaders repeatedly proclaim that the time for “hard choices” and “belt-tightening” has arrived. But their unyielding support for preserving (or even expanding) tax breaks for millionaires, billionaires, and mammoth corporations with record profits reflects a commitment to protect the powerful and financially secure at the further expense of those who are already struggling. This is not a courageous choice worthy of admiration; it is much more accurately viewed as an expedient, callous, and self-interested attempt to redefine heroism. But even children know that heroes save the entire town by slaying the fire-breathing dragon just beyond its walls — they never chase the dragon into the crowded town square in order to protect the riches of the wealthy.

Today, true heroism is little different in form or purpose. We see it when parents work 16-hour days, stringing together grueling part-time jobs to make sure their children have food and clothing. We see it when neighbors offer a spare room to the family down the block to help them stay off the street after being evicted from their foreclosed home. We see it when community members raise desperately needed funds for an injured child’s medical care. And we see it when students, parents, teachers, and staff unite to protest planned cuts that will hurt their schools.

At the end of her story, Le Guin notes that after visiting the forlorn child in the cellar some residents of Omelas decide to walk away from the city:

They walk ahead into the darkness, and they do not come back. The place they go towards is a place even less imaginable to most of us than the city of happiness. I cannot describe it at all. It is possible that it does not exist. But they seem to know where they are going, the ones who walk away from Omelas.

In this provocative world, the creation of a writer’s imagination, rescuing the cellar-bound child will harm everyone else. Therefore, leaving Omelas — relinquishing the comforts gained from another’s suffering and opting instead for an uncertain personal future — becomes an individual’s greatest act of moral defiance.

The choice facing us today is just as significant in its moral consequences, but it’s not nearly as difficult to make. Fortunately, we are free to act in concert to collectively change our circumstances for the better — without causing anyone to suffer. We’re limited only by our own willingness to hear and find direction from the many muffled yet resilient voices in our midst. Rather than walking away, we can join together and demand that our nation’s first priority be to protect and empower those in need. In the ongoing deficit reduction debate, this surprisingly simple guidepost marks a path forward that will ultimately benefit us all.

Why is the world's largest organization of psychologists so aggressively promoting a new, massive, and untested military program? The APA's enthusiasm for mandatory "resilience training" for all US soldiers is troubling on many counts.

The January 2011 issue of the American Psychologist, the American Psychological Association's (APA) flagship journal, is devoted entirely to 13 articles that detail and celebrate the virtues of a new US Army-APA collaboration. Built around positive psychology and with key contributions from former APA President Martin Seligman and his colleagues, Comprehensive Soldier Fitness (CSF) is a $125 million resilience training initiative designed to reduce and prevent the adverse psychological consequences of combat for our soldiers and veterans. While these are undoubtedly worthy aspirations, the special issue is nevertheless troubling in several important respects: the authors of the articles, all of whom are involved in the CSF program, offer very little discussion of conceptual and ethical considerations; the special issue does not provide a forum for any independent critical or cautionary voices whatsoever; and through this format, the APA itself has adopted a jingoistic cheerleading stance toward a research project about which many crucial questions should be posed. We discuss these and related concerns below.

At the outset, we want to be clear that we are not questioning the valuable role that talented and dedicated psychologists play in the military, nor certainly the importance of providing our soldiers and veterans with the best care possible. As long as our country has a military, our soldiers should be prepared to face the hazards and horrors they may experience. Military service is highly stressful and psychological challenges and difficulties understandably arise frequently. These issues are created or exacerbated by a wide range of features characteristic of military life, such as separation from family, frequent relocations and, especially, deployment to combat zones with ongoing threats of injury and death and exposure to acts of unspeakable violence. The stress of repeated tours of duty, including witnessing the loss of lives of comrades and civilians, can produce extensive emotional and behavioral consequences that persist long after soldiers return home. They include heightened risk of suicide, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), substance abuse and family violence.

Conceptual and Empirical Concerns

Although its advocates prefer to describe CSF as a training program, it is indisputably a research project of enormous size and scope, one in which a million soldiers are required to participate. Reivich, Seligman and McBride write in one of the special issue articles, "We hypothesize  that these skills will enhance soldiers' ability to handle adversity, prevent depression and anxiety, prevent PTSD and enhance overall well-being and performance" (p. 26, emphasis added). This is the very core of the entire CSF program, yet it is merely a hypothesis – a tentative explanation or prediction that can only be confirmed through further research.

There seems to be reluctance and inconsistency among the CSF promoters in acknowledging that CSF is "research" and therefore should entail certain protections routinely granted to those who participate in research studies. Seligman explained to the APA's Monitor on Psychology, "This is the largest study – 1.1 million soldiers – psychology has ever been involved in" (a "study" is a common synonym for "research project"). But when asked during an NPR interview whether CSF would be "the largest-ever experiment," Brigadier General Cornum, who oversees the program, responded, "Well, we're not describing it as an experiment. We're describing it as training." Despite the fact that CSF is incontrovertibly a research study, standard and important questions about experimental interventions like CSF are neither asked nor answered in the special issue. This neglect is all the more troubling given that the program is so massive and expensive and the stakes are so high.

It is highly unusual for the effectiveness of such a huge and consequential intervention program not to be convincingly demonstrated first in carefully conducted, randomized, controlled trials – before being rolled out under less controlled conditions. Such preliminary studies are far from a mere formality. The literature on prevention interventions is full of well-intentioned efforts that either failed to have positive effects or, even worse, had harmful consequences for those receiving them. For instance, in the 1990s the DARE (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) substance abuse prevention program was administered in thousands of elementary schools across the US, at a cost of many hundreds of millions of dollars. Yet, evaluations of DARE rarely found the desired effects in regard to reducing young people's later substance use (e.g., see this and this summary). In response, DARE was modified in the last decade; however, subsequent evaluation found that the revised program actually increased later alcohol and cigarette use in those who received it compared to controls.

Similarly, criminal justice researcher Joan McCord has demonstrated how well-meaning programs have caused actual harm. She conducted a 30-year follow-up of a classic delinquency prevention program. Those participants randomly selected for intervention, but not matched controls, were provided with extensive enrichment, including mentoring, counseling and summer camp. Among the matched pairs who differed in outcomes decades later, those who received the intensive assistance were more likely to have been convicted of serious street crimes; were more frequently given a diagnosis of alcoholism, schizophrenia or manic depression; and on average, died five years younger. Other studies of criminal justice interventions have also uncovered unanticipated, deleterious effects. Given this well-known record, it is especially concerning when a major intervention is rolled out for thousands – or hundreds of thousands – without careful prior examination, including an investigation of potential negative effects. The special issue of the American Psychologist gives no indication that preliminary studies of CSF were conducted.

Also problematic, the CSF program is adapted primarily from the Penn Resiliency Program (PRP) where interventions were focused on dramatically different, nonmilitary populations. Even with these groups, a 2009 meta-analysis of 17 controlled studies reveals that the PRP program has been only modestly and inconsistently effective. PRP produced small reductions in mild self-reported depressive symptoms, but it did so only in children already identified as at high risk for depression and not for those from the general population. Nor did PRP interventions reduce symptoms more than comparison prevention programs based on other principles, raising questions as to whether PRP's effects are related to the "resilience" theory undergirding the program. Further, like many experimental programs, PRP had better outcomes when administered by highly trained research staff than when given by staff recruited from the community. This raises doubts as to how effectively the CSF program will be administered by non-commissioned officers who are required to serve as "Master Resilience Trainers."

Regardless of how one evaluates prior PRP research, PRP's effects when targeting middle-school students, college students and adult groups can hardly be considered generalizable to the challenges and experiences that routinely face our soldiers in combat, including those that regularly trigger PTSD. In an inadequate attempt to bridge this gap rhetorically, CSF proponents describe PTSD as "a nasty combination of depressive and anxiety symptoms" (Reivich, Seligman and McBride, p. 26). In fact, PTSD involves a far more complicated cluster of severe symptoms in response to a specific traumatic event, including flashbacks, partial amnesia, difficulty sleeping, personality changes, outbursts of anger, hypervigilance, avoidance and emotional numbing.

Ethical Concerns

We also believe that other key aspects of CSF should have received explicit discussion in this special issue. It is standard practice for an independent and unbiased ethics review committee (an "institutional review board" or "IRB") to evaluate the ethical issues arising from a research project prior to its implementation. This review and approval process may in fact have occurred for CSF, but the manner in which the principals blur "research" and "training" leads us to wish for much greater clarity here. This process is even more critical given that the soldiers apparently have no informed consent protections – they are all required to participate in the CSF program. Such research violates the Nuremberg Code developed during the post-World War II trials of Nazi doctors. That code begins by stating:

The voluntary consent of the human subject is absolutely essential. This means that the person involved should have legal capacity to give consent; should be so situated as to be able to exercise free power of choice, without the intervention of any element of force, fraud, deceit, duress, over-reaching or other ulterior form of constraint or coercion; and should have sufficient knowledge and comprehension of the elements of the subject matter involved as to enable him to make an understanding and enlightened decision.

Disturbingly, however, this mandatory participation in a research study does not violate Section 8.05 of the APA's own Ethics Code, which allows for the suspension of informed consent "where otherwise permitted by law or federal or institutional regulations." Despite the APA's stance, we should never forget that the velvet glove of authoritarian planning, no matter how well intended, is no substitute for the protected freedoms of individuals to make their own choices, mistakes and dissenting judgments. Respect for informed consent is more, not less, important in total environments like the military where individual dissent is often severely discouraged and often punished.

More broadly, the 13 articles fail to explore potential ethical concerns related to the uncertain effects of the CSF training itself. In fact, the only question of this sort raised in the special issue – by Tedeschi and McNally in one article and by Lester, McBride, Bliese and Adler in another – is whether it might be unethical to withhold the CSF training from soldiers. Certainly, there are other ethical quandaries that require serious discussion if the CSF program's effectiveness is to be appropriately evaluated. For example, might the training actually cause harm? Might soldiers who have been trained to resiliently view combat as a growth opportunity be more likely to ignore or underestimate real dangers, thereby placing themselves, their comrades or civilians at heightened risk of harm?

Similarly, by increasing perseverance in the face of adversity, might the CSF training lead soldiers to engage in actions that may later cause regret (e.g., the shooting of civilians at a roadblock in an ambiguous situation), thereby increasing the potential for PTSD or other post-combat psychological difficulties? Or, might the resilience training lead some to overcome, for the time, the disabling effects of traumatic episodes and thereby increase the likelihood of their redeployment to situations with further risk of serious disability? The likelihood of these eventualities or other negative effects, is unknown. But certainly they are sufficiently plausible – as plausible as McCord's unexpected findings, noted earlier, of intensive counseling and summer camp leading to increased crime, mental illness diagnosis and early death among participating youth – that they cannot legitimately be ruled out a priori. These possibilities increase the ethical responsibility of those promoting CSF to conduct pilot studies, carefully monitor them for possible negative effects upon soldiers or others, submit the program to careful ethical review and seek informed consent.

It is also important to note here two controversial aspects of the CSF program that have already received attention from investigative journalists. First, Mark Benjamin has raised provocative questions, not yet fully answered, about the circumstances surrounding the huge, $31 million no-bid contract awarded to Seligman ("whose work formed the psychological underpinnings of the Bush administration's torture program") by the Department of Defense for his team's CSF involvement. Benjamin notes that the government allows sole-source contracts only under very limited conditions. The Army contract documents note that "there is only one responsible source due to a unique capability provided and no other supplies or services will satisfy agency requirements." But as we have detailed above, public claims about the effectiveness of the PRP and its superiority to alternative prevention programs are significantly overstated, casting doubt upon the rationale for awarding the sole-source contract.

Second, Jason Leopold and others have raised serious questions about the "spiritual fitness" component of the CSF program, which appears to inappropriately promote a religious worldview as an important path to greater resilience and purpose. The special issue article by Pargament and Sweeney confirms the legitimacy of this concern. It includes a range of theologically oriented terms and references and it specifically identifies the Army's chaplain corps as a resource "to assist individuals in their quests to develop their spirits" (p. 61).

The Limits of Positive Psychology

CSF draws heavily on "positive psychology" in aiming to reduce the incidence of psychological harm resulting from combat and post-combat stress. The field of positive psychology has grown dramatically over the past decade and has many exuberant supporters and evangelists. Rather than focusing on distress and pathology, they emphasize human strengths and virtues, happiness and the potential to derive positive meaning from stressful circumstances. Few would dispute the benefits of broadening psychology's purview in this way. But writers such as Barbara Held, Barbara Ehrenreich, Eugene Taylor and James Coyne have offered compelling critiques of positive psychology, including its failure to sufficiently recognize the valuable functions played by "negative" emotions like anger, sorrow and fear; its slick marketing and disregard for harsh and unforgiving societal realities like poverty; its failure to examine the depth and richness of human experience; and its growing tendency to promote claims without sufficient scientific support (e.g., the relationship between positive psychological states and health outcomes or the mechanisms underlying "posttraumatic growth").

These and related concerns are directly relevant to CSF. As described by Cornum, Matthews and Seligman in the special issue, the CSF program aspires "to increase the number of soldiers who derive meaning and personal growth from their combat experience" (p. 6). But in many ways, the technocratic language of military training programs and the positive psychology strategies that characterize the CSF program appear inadequate for the task. Activities such as the "three blessings exercise," in which the individual reflects on what went well that day and why, seem ill-suited for encouraging and supporting the deep questioning and open exploration of existential issues that often arise for soldiers facing extreme circumstances. By all indications, the program's positive psychology orientation also fails to scrutinize those very institutions that subject recruits to potential trauma in order to create people sufficiently hardy to engage in death-defying and death-inflicting experiences.

In this regard, it is worth noting how special issue authors Peterson, Park and Castro briefly discuss the lower trust scores of female soldiers on the CSF program's Global Assessment Tool (GAT), which measures psychological fitness in four domains (social, emotional, spiritual and family). They interpret these results as suggesting "Female soldiers do not feel as fully at ease in the Army as do male soldiers," and they recommend further research to "understand the needs and challenges of female soldiers and to help them attain the same morale as male soldiers, which perhaps would reduce attrition among them" (p. 15-16). What goes unmentioned is that the extremely high rates of sexual assault on women soldiers, condoned or covered up by others higher in rank, is clearly a source of distrust and trauma – and it calls less for building a positive, resilient outlook among the victims than for recognition of how the commonplace victimization of women in war should be vociferously prevented.

In important ways, key lessons of humanistic psychology are also regrettably overlooked in the CSF program. For many soldiers, combat awakens questions regarding the meaning of life and of its worth, which can become more persistent after returning home. Too often, our veterans face anomie, lack of community and the replacement of caring ties with the competitive values of marketability when their military service is over. Humanistic and related perspectives more directly and fully attend to this void, the emptiness of contemporary society that increases the difficulties in recovery from trauma, than does positive psychology. Because of the limitations of quantitative psychology to date, the data for phenomena of this type are more frequently found in stories than in self-report inventories such as the GAT. Limited data encourage a limited view of the phenomenon of PTSD and of any resilience that is based upon denial. In contrast, it is through revelations such as the Winter Soldier testimonies of US veterans and active duty soldiers from Afghanistan and Iraq, through studies of the phenomenology of returning soldiers by Daryl Paulson and Stanley Krippner or accounts of soldier participants in US torture as relayed by journalists Joshua Phillips and Justine Sharrock, that we are able to see how much distress comes from abuses soldiers commit either as a result of commands from superiors or due to the morally disorienting effects of ambiguous combat situations.

Indeed, among the most traumatic psychological scars that soldiers sustain are those resulting from what they have done to others. Some of the particularly intense characteristics of PTSD are found among perpetrators. As Col. Dave Grossman and others have described, human beings have an inherent resistance to killing other human beings. As a result, waging war almost always relies upon propaganda and training designed to dehumanize the enemy and elevate one's own cause. Psychology and psychologists have contributed to training programs aimed at increasing soldiers' willingness to kill. Now, this newest positive psychology program for resilience promises to shield soldiers from some of the debilitating consequences of their actions and, as Reivich, Seligman and McBride note, it aims to better enable soldiers to "live the Warrior Ethos – 'I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat. I will never quit. I will never leave a fallen comrade'" (p. 27).

Missing, it would seem, is any meaningful CSF component devoted to helping soldiers grapple with the profound ethical dilemmas involved in their duties, including killing others in furtherance of state policy. Brett Litz and his colleagues have used the term "moral injury" to describe the exceedingly difficult challenges and consequences that soldiers face in response to "perpetrating, failing to prevent, bearing witness to or learning about acts that transgress deeply held moral beliefs and expectations" (p. 700). These are especially troubling omissions from the CSF program when we also consider the regrettable reality that many recruits, often drawn to the military by economic necessity and deceptive marketing strategies, are never told about the types of injuries to which they will be exposed or the level of slaughter in which some of them will take part.

The US Military and American Psychology

In the closing article of the special issue, Seligman and Fowler (former CEO of the APA) attempt to counter the objections they anticipate from readers who have concerns about how closely the APA and the profession of psychology should align themselves with the agenda of the US military. Certainly, such reader concerns are not entirely unfounded, especially given the tragic repercussions of the APA's decisions post-9/11 to shape its ethics code, policies and pronouncements to meet the perceived needs of an administration that viewed torture and other detainee abuse as legitimate components of national security practice. Unfortunately, however, Seligman and Fowler's arguments serve only to instill greater concern about the foundations of the CSF program and the role of institutional psychology in advancing it, as we explain below by responding to three statements from their article.

"It is not the military that sets the nation's policies on war and peace. The military carries out the policies that emerge from our democratic form of government. Withholding professional and scientific support for the people who provide the nation's defense is, we believe, simply wrong" (p. 85).

No one recommends withholding services from anyone in need. Indeed, health professionals deserve to be commended for providing such support to our soldiers and veterans. But when acting ethically, health professionals address the needs of their clients before the wishes of the institutions that hire them. Therefore, if those institutions constrain the options available for the well-being of the practitioners' clients, these professionals have an obligation to consider remedies beyond the narrow institutionally defined interests. For example, the CSF program does not include a component whereby participants are invited to listen to fellow soldiers and veterans who have enhanced their own safety, well-being and sense of purpose by refusing to comply with illicit orders, or by deciding, as have so many other American citizens, that the war they are fighting is unjust and immoral.

In addition, whether the US military plays a role in establishing policies is not a matter to be determined by recitation of formal rules. Scholarship involves an obligation to look at the actual evidence. Generals routinely make political statements in which they advocate for the latest war. Major military contractors work closely with military officials to sell both weapons of war and war itself. Retired military officers are then often hired as lobbyists for these same corporations and some appear as military "experts" in the media without revealing their conflicts of interest. The exorbitant budget for "perception management" services paid to professional propaganda organizations is also used by the military to spin news and promote war to government officials and the public alike. And, as recently reported by Rolling Stone, psychological operations ("psyops") techniques were used by the military on visiting US senators to strengthen their support of the increasingly unpopular Afghan war effort.

"The balance of good done by building the physical and mental fitness of our soldiers far outweighs any harm that might be done" (p. 86).

It is disappointing that researchers who have emphasized the purported empirical underpinnings of the CSF program would here abandon all semblance of scholarly rigor. The authors offer their cost-benefit claim as transparently true (i.e., the good outweighing the harm). But they offer no evidence in support of this crucial claim. For example, in their calculation, how much weight do they give to the tragic numbers of civilian casualties in Iraq (minimally estimated in the hundreds of thousands) and Afghanistan – the dead, the injured and the displaced? Does this harm matter at all to those promoting CSF? Have we reached the point where "do no harm," the fundamental principle underlying the psychology profession's ethics, has become "do no harm to Americans, unless it serves the interests of the state"? These issues deserve careful consideration, not evasion.

We should also keep in mind that every effort to support military operations is billed as "support for our troops." Whether it is the use of drones that kill from a continent away or tapping into a soldier's capacity to kill without a serious hangover, all are justified as for the brave troops. But the decisions to use military force are not made with the well-being of military personnel in mind, nor are they made by soldiers or even influenced by their desires. Master resilience trainers in the Army will not be urging soldiers to report violations of the rules of engagement by their superiors. They will not encourage soldiers to empathize with the humanity of the adults and children whom they may have killed as collateral damage, nor to use forms of restorative justice for apology and reconciliation that have a potential for deeper healing. And they will not encourage troops to build supportive ties with those critical of the wars they are fighting or the tactics required of them.

"We are proud to aid our military in defending and protecting our nation right now and we will be proud to help our soldiers and their families into the peace that will follow" (p. 86).

The blind embrace of overly simple notions of "patriotism" is inappropriate for professional psychologists dedicated to the promotion of universal human health and well-being. Ideological convictions based upon mythologies of American exceptionalism are no substitute for an examination of their verity. If it is not true that the US is defending its democratic foundations against ruthless adversaries, then the balance shifts dramatically toward averting the alleged harm of making healthier killers. By tying the CSF program to claims of the rightness of American military goals and actions, Seligman and Fowler are, unrecognized by them, requiring that an ethical evaluation include a comprehensive empirical evaluation of the justification for those policies.

Such an evaluation likely will find that the view of US military history as being primarily "defensive" in nature, rather than one of imperial control, is false. Rather, the US has a long history of intervening in other countries and overthrowing their governments when they act in ways considered to be against US national interests. Where does the "defending and protecting" reality lie in regard to the war in Iraq or the invasion of Grenada or the support for the Venezuelan coup or the bombing of Serbia or military aid to dictators around the world? Sadly, history (and scholars such as retired US Col. Andrew Bacevich, among many others) has shown how remarkably war-prone the United States has been in the nondefensive pursuit of its foreign policy and "national interest." The US is, in fact, at best only inconsistently a defender of democracy. Our empire-building behavior has caused great harm to our own safety and well-being – and to the principles our country purports to value. Meanwhile, the promise of peace following military victories has surely not materialized, while the case for the extent of US engagement in wars that were unneeded is extensive and compelling. It is not professionally responsible to ignore these facts.

Conclusion

In addition to our deep concerns about CSF, the APA's unrestrained enthusiasm for the program is especially worrisome for what it says about the APA, the largest organization of psychologists in the country, indeed the world. As we have demonstrated, there are many complex issues regarding the CSF program's empirical foundations, its promotion as a massive research project absent informed consent and the basis on which its psychologist developers justify the program. We would, therefore, expect a special issue of the American Psychologist, a journal edited by the APA's CEO Norman Anderson, to encourage an extended discussion of these matters.

In contrast, guest editors Seligman and Matthews have assembled 13 articles that include no independent evaluation of the empirical claims underlying CSF. They contain no unbiased discussion of ethical issues raised by the program. They do nothing to enlighten psychologists about ethical challenges posed by consulting and research work with the military. And they most certainly offer no encouragement for questioning the foreign policy context in which our soldiers are sent into combat, to face physical and moral hazards for which even the best program can never adequately prepare them. Unfortunately, the APA's uncritical promotion of the CSF program reveals much about the current moral challenges facing the psychology profession itself.

Psychology should maintain an ethical and critical stance distinct from and resistant to the lure of patriotic calls, which are part of each and every military undertaking – by all nations – regardless of the legitimacy of the cause. As psychologists, we should tread carefully when our efforts are solely directed toward sending soldiers back into combat rather than counseling them away from participating in misguided wars. In a similar way, assessing soldiers for their potential to withstand such horrors of war and building their resilience through teaching mental toughness skills are not necessarily healthy alternatives compared to affirming and assisting them in their expressions of doubt and dissent.

Ultimately, there is a paradox that should be foremost in the minds of professional psychologists. Helping people who have already been harmed by trauma is essential. But should we be involved in helping an institution prepare to place more people in harm's way without careful and ongoing questioning and review of the rationale for doing so? Whatever the needs for a military for national defense or the benefits of team building, loyalty, camaraderie and a positive outlook, militaries are, among other things, authoritarian institutions that kill, maim, deceive and actively reduce an individual's sense of independent agency.

The enormous toll that armed conflict exacts on soldiers, veterans, families and communities is a key reason why we should send young men and women to war only as an absolute last resort – and we should bring them home as quickly as possible, rather than sending them back again and again. If the CSF program is truly about enhancing well-being, then we should also question whether these soldiers might be helped more effectively by finding non-military ways to resolve the conflicts and concerns for which they carry such heavy burdens.

NOTE: This essay has also been published online by Truthout, Counterpunch, and ZNet.

Unfortunately, scientific research reveals a sharply different reality: inequality is a driving force behind many of our most profound social ills. The Equality Trust reviewed thousands of studies conducted by the U.S. Census Bureau, the World Health Organization, the United Nations, and the World Bank. Consistent patterns emerged, both between and within countries. Inequality is associated with diminished levels of physical and mental health, child well-being, educational achievement, social mobility, trust, and community life. And it is linked to increased levels of violence, drug use, imprisonment, obesity, and teenage births. In short, Lord Griffiths’ claim–despite the venue–was a self-serving fiction.

Shared Outrage and Solidarity

Although there are no easy or quick solutions for reversing today’s extreme inequalities and repairing the daily harm they cause, the path forward may be clearer than we realize. Change of this magnitude requires a stubborn, passionate, and broadly embraced commitment to greater equality as a moral necessity. Although regularly overlooked and misunderstood, the catalyst for such a transformation is often surprisingly simple: shared outrage. Indeed, when shared by the disadvantaged and oppressed on the one hand and by those with greater security and resources on the other, outrage can spur the concerted action required to overcome the injustice, insensitivity, and inhumanity that foster inequality around the world.

Recent work by social psychologists such as Emma Thomas, Craig McGarty, Kenneth Mavor, and Emina Subasic (among others) highlights why this is so. Outrage shared between groups that otherwise differ in many ways creates the solidarity vital to forcefully challenging a destructive status quo. This shared emotion is so powerful because it breaks the established boundaries that separate the “haves” from the “have-nots.” Outrage over inequality can unite the direct victims of discrimination with those who find discrimination morally repugnant even though they themselves have not experienced it. Similarly, outrage can bring together in common cause people struggling to make ends meet and those who while better off are convinced that it’s simply wrong for anyone to go without adequate food, shelter, or healthcare.

What also makes this shared moral outrage special is its collective action orientation–it pushes for sustained engagement against the individuals, groups, and institutions that benefit from inequality and seek to perpetuate it. As a political force, shared outrage takes us beyond the mere acknowledgement of regrettable circumstances in the world. It insists on explanations for what’s wrong, and it seeks accountability for the wrongdoing. And the chorus of voices rising up in shared outrage prevents any single group from becoming an isolated target for condemnation or retribution from the powers that be.

In the U.S. alone, there are many settings today that cry out for this shared outrage. Consider a small sample:

• Wall Street’s largest banks turn a taxpayer-funded bailout into billions of dollars in bonuses for their highest-paid employees–while millions of working people lose their jobs and their homes. It’s not only the unemployed and homeless who should be outraged.
• Health insurance giants add to their bottom line by denying life-saving treatment to sick children, dropping policyholders when they become too ill, and aggressively raising premiums despite the economic hardship facing so many. It’s not only those whose health or recovery is imperiled who should be outraged.
• Profit-driven global polluters, their lobbyists, and their political defenders block effective responses to climate change while the poor suffer disproportionately from environmental disasters and devastation. It’s not only those whose lives are destroyed by drought or flood who should be outraged.
• Unethical politicians protect the privileged and the wealthy by embracing falsehoods and obstructionism to prevent legislation that would address inequality in such arenas as preschool programs, student aid, worker rights, and the minimum wage. It’s not only those denied an adequate education, a decent job, or a chance at a brighter future who should be outraged.
• With support and funding from powerful elites, hate-mongers take to the airwaves and the print media. They condemn, ridicule, and arouse fear and hostility toward minority group members already disadvantaged by prejudice, discrimination, and infringements of their civil rights. It’s not only the targeted groups who should be outraged.

The Limits of Compassion

The shared outrage I’m extolling is by no means the only prosocial emotion we can experience in response to human suffering. Compassion, for example, is another common and important reaction–but alone it’s not sufficient to promote meaningful and lasting social change. Part of the problem, as demonstrated by the research of psychologists such as Paul Slovic, Ilana Ritov, and Tehila Kogut, is that our natural tendency to experience compassion is quite limited in breadth. We tend to respond most strongly to the misfortune of a single identified individual. Unfortunately, these feelings of care and concern quickly diminish in strength as the number of victims increases. So even though compassion can lead to crucial short-term efforts to help the needy, it doesn’t readily translate into a sustained movement. It doesn’t truly unite groups in common purpose over time.

In fact, compassion felt toward those less well off actually highlights differences between groups rather than effectively transforming two groups into one. In contrast to moral outrage, which can be fully shared, compassion is a feeling experienced only by the outsider; a disadvantaged group doesn’t feel compassion for itself. Moreover, compassion too often finds expression in patronizing gestures. A we-know-better attitude inadvertently intensifies group boundaries by failing to fully recognize the capabilities, resiliency, special knowledge, and equal humanity of those to whom help is offered.

Just as important, compassion does not search for, identify, and hold accountable those responsible for conditions of inequality and injustice. In short, feeling bad for those less fortunate isn’t enough. Shared outrage goes much further. It combats illegitimate attempts to blame the victims for their plight. It prioritizes the need for long-term change beyond emergency assistance alone. And it demands accountability for the failure to use power and influence for the greater good.

Hurdles to Shared Outrage

But if moral outrage shared by the disadvantaged and advantaged alike offers such promise for positive social change, what stands in its way? Why, for example, is inequality growing on so many fronts rather than receding? Far too often, the blossoming of such shared outrage is cut short–both by the powerful self-interested beneficiaries of the status quo and by those who, without malevolent intent, mistakenly view outrage as an undesirable, inappropriate, or ineffective response to inequality and injustice.

Many of those perched atop the social and economic ladder, accustomed to the access and resources entrenched power bestows, have little interest in climbing down a rung or two. For them, preserving the inequality they welcome depends upon suppressing shared outrage. This is routinely accomplished by promoting an alternative narrative that supports and glorifies the current system. “The world is the way it should be.” “Claims of injustice, illegitimacy, or wrongdoing are unfounded; they overlook a deeper logic and necessity.” “Inequality is a good thing.”

In this world of skillfully crafted illusions, rags-to-riches stories are like gold to those who own the mines. When they are sufficiently persuasive, we’re inclined to overlook the words of people such as Bangladeshi Nobel Laureate and micro-lender Muhammad Yunus, who explained, “Poverty is not created by poor people. It has been created and sustained by the economic and social system that we have designed for ourselves; the institutions and concepts that make up that system; the policies that we pursue.”

Those who defend current structures of inequality–whether their status derives from political power, outsized salaries, or inherited wealth–have many other tactics at their disposal. Sometimes the disadvantaged are blamed, ridiculed, and reprimanded for the adversity they face. When the victims accept these false accusations as true, their outrage is smothered and their disempowerment is nearly complete. Sometimes powerful elites overburden potential allies of the underprivileged with obstacles and worries that prevent them from looking beyond their own circumstances and joining cause with those who are even worse off. And sometimes the status quo’s winners conspire to pit everyone else against each other, thereby extinguishing the possibility that shared outrage might unseat them.

Regrettably, the barriers to justice are further strengthened by the well-intentioned and risk-averse when they fail to become partners in moral outrage with the worst victims of an inequality-perpetuating system. When such sympathizers take to the sidelines and become mere bystanders, they tragically help society’s wealthiest and most powerful avoid the full force of broadly-supported and insistent demands for meaningful change. For a movement working to build momentum, apathy and indecision from prospective allies can be as destructive as outright opposition. Recall Martin Luther King’s deep disappointment over the decent people who deemed outrage an inappropriate response to the racism and segregation of the 1960s:

I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

What Shared Moral Outrage about Inequality Is Not

The shared moral outrage discussed here is often inadvertently misunderstood or intentionally misrepresented. It is therefore important to be clear about what this form of outrage is not.

First, shared outrage over inequality is not the same as irrational anger. Rather, it’s an entirely reasonable response to an outrageous situation. Likewise, effective strategies for pursuing real change linked to moral outrage can be bold and discomforting while still being purposeful and carefully planned. To prize civility and decorum (and “bipartisanship”) when doing so aids the powerful defenders of an unjust status quo is either foolish or deceitful.

Second, the shared outrage I’m praising is not supportive of violence in the pursuit of its aims. In fact, such outrage has historically been the source of transformative non-violent movements around the world. At the same time, the manner in which shared outrage is expressed can indeed reflect the recognition that timid stances are too often ignored or dismissed by the mainstream media, the centers of power, and those who are comfortably insulated from life’s daily hardships and injustices.

Third, this shared outrage over inequality is not artificial. It is explicitly not the simulated populist anger manufactured and promoted by corporate-funded “astroturf” groups that represent many more dollars than people. Such efforts have very different underlying goals and often include an agenda that expands rather than diminishes inequality. Despite superficial appearances, the current “tea party movement” fits this bill. A recent CNN/Opinion Research poll found that these activists are predominantly male, higher-income, college-educated, and conservative, with 87% supporting the Republican candidate for the U.S. House. That’s certainly not the profile of a broad and diverse coalition of “haves” and “have-nots” fighting systemic injustices that do particular harm to the least fortunate among us.

Finally, shared moral outrage should not be mistaken for the anger displayed by representatives of powerful interests responding to attempts to alter the status quo. Such big-budget political theater is strategically designed to subvert the efforts of groups pursuing change that will benefit the disadvantaged. Outrage fueled by distortions, misrepresentations, and lies must be discounted as well.

Where to Now?

Now is the time for more of the shared moral outrage I’ve described, not less. As Frederick Douglass explained more than a century and a half ago, “If there is no struggle there is no progress. Those who profess to favor freedom and yet depreciate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground, they want rain without thunder and lightening. They want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters.”

Although forces of globalization and technological developments have undoubtedly altered the landscape for political action, the importance of shared moral outrage as a foundation for social progress persists. Examples from the past half-century remain as compelling as ever. Emerging from the horrors of World War II, the United Nations adopted the groundbreaking Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Broad and sustained political movements advanced the civil rights of African Americans and women in the United States and ended apartheid in South Africa. Populist campaigns curtailed the exploitation and abuse of farm and factory workers. Churches and local communities created sanctuaries that offered protection for immigrants and refugees. All of these efforts (and many others) were aimed at promoting greater equality, and all recognized that inequality could not be meaningfully reduced without improving the circumstances of society’s most vulnerable and marginalized members.

In the 1976 Oscar-winning film Network, deranged TV news anchor Howard Beale implores his viewers to open their windows and scream, “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!” The sentiment and emotion may be right, but what’s really needed now is greater engagement in organized efforts that bring together inspiring leaders, dedicated advocates, and inclusive coalitions of diverse supporters committed to reducing inequality and its injustices. Together, we must face head-on the full reality of today’s morally bankrupt status quo while nurturing our collective imagination to envision building a better world. This difficult balancing act will require that we resist the lure of cynicism, self-absorption, and conventional mindsets–and that we find, nurture, and share our moral outrage.

As president of Psychologists for Social Responsibility (PsySR), I work with fellow members — psychologists and non-psychologists alike — in a shared venture to confront many of these challenges. A central premise of our efforts is that psychology — the science of human behavior — offers a strong base of knowledge and practice for developing and implementing policies that promote peace, social justice, human rights, and an ecologically sustainable future. We pursue these goals through research, education, intervention, and advocacy.

Real-world application of psychological principles can be a valuable resource for positive social change in a surprisingly wide range of contexts. Such knowledge can:

• Help individuals and groups overcome “us-versus-them” mindsets and build bridges across perceived divides.
• Encourage us to focus on our future collective welfare and to prioritize the broader long-term consequences of our actions instead of short-term self-interest by engaging our pro-social tendencies and moral sentiments.
• Strengthen our capacity to use thoughtful analysis and empathy when evaluating alternatives, and to resist appeals to fear and anger that are designed to cloud our judgment.
• Address misunderstandings and miscommunication, thereby serving to prevent the escalation of conflict and bloodshed; heal the wounds of violence, trauma, and neglect; and avert the transmission of revenge and despair from one generation to the next.

Making meaningful strides in areas like these will require deep understandings of how psychology and politics are inter-related, as well as increased collaboration between psychologists and other social scientists. In this way, psychological knowledge can be used more effectively to identify key features of stubborn social problems and to illuminate potential pathways to progress. Here are several examples.

Over one billion people struggle to survive on less than $1 a day. To reduce chronic poverty, we must confront the prejudices, discrimination, and societal arrangements that promote inequality and limit opportunity for so many. Psychology also highlights the need to reduce the stigma associated with being poor. And since we tend to be most supportive of others when their concerns relate to our own, anti-poverty campaigns are more effective when they communicate how poverty affects us all.

Nuclear weapons could destroy all life on Earth, a horror so great that we bury it from awareness. To eliminate these weapons, it’s important to understand the psychology that motivates us to acquire and retain them. Paradoxically, the desire for greater security spurs countries to want weapons of mass destruction. Overcoming a common attribution error — “our weapons are for protection, but theirs are for aggression” — is therefore crucial for parties to negotiate in good faith toward a nuclear weapons-free world.

Mass killing, torture, gender-based violence, and other human rights violations are a worldwide tragedy. Perpetrators are often driven by psychological factors, including vengeance, blind obedience to authority, the intoxicating effects of power, and the dehumanization and demonization of those who are different. We can counter these abuses by confronting the psychological barriers that too often discourage individuals or nations from intervening. These include fear, apathy, denial, perceived helplessness, and the diffusion of responsibility.

Climate change, population growth, and rising consumption represent a looming ecological catastrophe that imperils all human life. Psychology offers key insights to confront this crisis. Policies can be made more effective by addressing our tendency to focus on the short-term and to disregard critical dangers that grow over time. Another promising strategy involves helping wealthier nations examine how their excessive consumption interferes with the pursuit of important goals and values. The behavioral sciences are directly relevant to the challenges of bringing about large-scale social change.

Poverty, nuclear weapons, human rights violations, and climate change are global problems. But psychologically informed strategies have also proven successful when used in local initiatives. For instance, conflict management training for leaders in deeply-divided communities has curtailed sectarian violence. Intergroup contact and dialogue strategies have also been used effectively to reduce prejudice among participants in community youth programs. Carefully framed public service messages targeting HIV/AIDS prevention in under-served areas have led to sizable decreases in risky behavior. Correcting student misperceptions about the prevalence of heavy drinking has substantially reduced alcohol consumption on college campuses. Programs that provide comparative feedback on residents’ home energy consumption have lessened overall neighborhood energy use. And efforts to foster trust and a sense of shared identity have helped activists and advocacy organizations build broader and more effective coalitions.

But while psychology offers great promise in these spheres and many others, we must also recognize that there are those who regrettably misuse their understanding of human behavior for selfish or destructive purposes. In particular, political, media, and corporate elites at times engage in manipulation to promote everything from unhealthy lifestyles to greater inequality to war. The consequences are often tragic. The members of Psychologists for Social Responsibility believe that bringing greater psychological knowledge to the widest possible audience — policymakers, activists, educators, students, news media, and the general public — is crucial for empowering all of us to pursue socially responsible solutions to the many challenges we face today.

In my work as a clinical, social, and political psychologist, I’ve found that the decisions we make are powerfully influenced by five core concerns. These concerns revolve around issues of vulnerability, injustice, distrust, superiority, and helplessness. Their impact is felt almost everywhere: at home, at work, in the community, in politics, and even in international relations.

Of particular importance, these five concerns shape our perceptions and actions by serving as persuasive yet imperfect guides to the world around us. In our pursuit of positive personal and social change, they can both illuminate the path forward and lead us far astray. Sadly, too often we fail to recognize the difference. Let’s briefly consider each in turn.

Vulnerability

Concerns about safety are central to the way we evaluate our circumstances. This isn’t surprising. Survival is an obvious first priority — without it nothing else would be possible. So efforts to protect ourselves and the people and groups we care about are a primary focus of our attention.

Nevertheless, we’re not particularly good at making judgments about risk. As a result, we routinely discover too late that valuable time and resources were wasted on unnecessary precautions, and promising opportunities were cast aside as we built defenses against phantom threats. Of course, such lessons are hard to apply because we’ve also learned that the failure to exercise due caution can have devastating effects. Indeed, “better safe than sorry” is a philosophy that has saved innumerable lives.

Injustice

We are strongly affected by perceptions of injustice, both in our personal lives and in our group attachments. Most of us react to perceived mistreatment with anger and resentment, as well as an urge to right wrongs and punish those we deem responsible.

But again, our judgments are fallible, in both directions. In some cases, our perceptions of wrongdoing are misguided — such as when we confuse what’s unfair with what’s merely unfortunate, or when we blame the wrong people for the adversity we face. And then at other times we’re much too slow in recognizing the legitimacy of another’s grievances, or in holding accountable those whose unjust acts have caused great suffering.

Distrust

We tend to divide the world into people we consider worthy of our trust and those we view with doubt and suspicion. In so doing we hope to choose our allies wisely, while avoiding harm from those who have hostile intentions or are simply undependable.

Yet here too, errors are commonplace. Acting on the basis of information that’s often incomplete and unreliable, we regularly mistake potential friends for foes and as a result fail to pursue important avenues for collaboration. But at the same time, we’re all too familiar with the painful consequences that can result when we gullibly place our faith in people who abuse our trust for their own selfish purposes.

Superiority

We are quick to compare ourselves to other individuals and groups. In many cases, we hope to confirm or demonstrate that we’re better in some important way — perhaps in our accomplishments, our values, or our destiny. And to reinforce this positive self-image, at times we choose to focus on what we consider worst about others.

But these judgments can prove problematic. Perceiving others as inferior often leads to destructive conflict, while narcissistic convictions of superiority set the stage for acts of abuse and humiliation that run counter to basic human decency. At the same time, excessive pride and overconfidence tend to encourage dangerous overreaching that can produce personally disastrous outcomes.

Helplessness

We strive to avoid the experience of helplessness by doing our best to control the important events in our lives. But when we believe our efforts are futile, despair and resignation can quickly overwhelm our commitment and motivation to pursue change.

Once more, our perceptions can lead us astray. In some situations, repeated setbacks cause us to abandon our goals prematurely. We lose sight of the progress already made and discount the likelihood of future advances. On the other hand, there are times when we greatly overestimate our capabilities. As a result, we may stubbornly persevere with unproductive strategies when we’d be much better off pursuing alternative routes.

In the Public Square

One critical arena where these five concerns repeatedly take center stage is in today’s public policy debates. War, health care, immigration, workers’ rights, climate change, and taxes are just a handful of examples that quickly come to mind.

In this context, individuals and groups often specifically highlight issues of vulnerability, injustice, distrust, superiority, and helplessness when appealing for our support and our votes. This approach can be highly effective and entirely legitimate — if the aim is to advance our collective welfare and the foundations of a just society.

But our natural susceptibility to such appeals means that we must work especially hard to resist well-crafted and expertly marketed proposals designed instead to advance the narrow and self-serving interests of their powerful proponents.

Our key challenge, then, is to recognize the difference.

In her email on behalf of the Board of Directors, Dr. Goodheart requested that “APA Divisions and governance members not boycott the Manchester Hyatt.” She warned that the financial costs of canceling the hotel contract could exceed $1 million. And she proposed that APA instead turn the situation into a “positive educational opportunity regarding the issue of same-sex marriage.”

Dissatisfied with and troubled by Dr. Goodheart’s letter and its recommendations, I sent her the letter below in response to her request for “other actions that APA might take.”

August 31, 2009

Dear Dr. Goodheart:

I am writing to share my concerns and disappointment regarding your letter last week describing APA’s plans for the 2010 Convention and the contract situation with the Manchester Hyatt. In particular, I would like to make several points for your consideration.

1. Your letter seems to me to have failed to inform readers that for the past year there has been an ongoing boycott of the Manchester Hyatt, including protests and picketing at the hotel. And just last month, local LGBT activists and union leaders – also protesting labor conditions at the hotel – announced that they were extending their boycott efforts for a second year. Therefore, in requesting that members book rooms and attend events at the Hyatt, you are encouraging them to cross picket lines – an important political act in its own right. I believe they should know this in advance.

2. In my view, the actions you describe as alternatives to a boycott (e.g., LGBT-related briefing papers, symposia, etc.) should have been part of APA’s convention planning all along – i.e., regardless of issues posed by the Manchester Hyatt. These proposed convention activities in support of equal rights would be just as warranted and indeed necessary whether or not this particular hotel owner had given $125,000 to support a ban on same-sex marriage in California.

3. I am particularly troubled, although perhaps I may have misunderstood you, by your expressed view that these “alternative” actions will enable APA members to “show their support for the critical principles at stake for LGBT members and communities.” I strongly believe that the principles at stake are not simply matters of importance to the LGBT community alone. These principles should legitimately be a source of concern for everyone. I think you will agree that we all benefit from living in a more just society. At the same time, I recognize that your letter offers no clear statement that the APA would actually prefer not to use the Manchester Hyatt.

4. The letter’s claim that APA policy necessitates honoring the hotel contract is overly simple and unsatisfactory. In particular, you offer no indication that APA leadership has thoroughly investigated whether there might be a legitimate basis for breaking the contract without incurring the financial costs you highlight. This is important because there are reports that several organizations have in fact moved events away from the Manchester Hyatt. According to the Lesbian and Gay Lawyers Association of Los Angeles, these groups include the American Association of Law Schools, the San Diego County Pension Fund, GLAAD, the San Diego Association of Realtors, the California Nurses Association, the Conference of Delegates of California Bar Associations, and the International Foundation of Employee Benefits. In this regard, an online letter from the National Lawyers Guild of San Francisco (protesting the California State Bar Association’s decision to hold its upcoming meeting at the Hyatt) notes that a contract might be cancelled “on the grounds that the Hotel most certainly is not living up to its contractual commitment to provide the State Bar with a quiet and non-controversial venue for this meeting.”

5. Even from a strictly financial perspective, I think the cost-benefit analysis is substantially more complex than your letter suggests. One million dollars is indisputably a lot of money – but it is also the worst-case scenario. And we should not lose sight of other key ways that $1 million can be lost, including (1) the loss in dues if 2,500 members or prospective members decide that the APA does not represent their values and therefore choose not to renew or join, or (2) the loss in fees if 3,600 members decide against attending the convention in San Diego for similar reasons. Any potential financial loss linked to the Manchester Hyatt should also considered in context, such as that figure’s relation to APA’s overall operating budget and other assets (including the likely multi-million dollar increase over the past month alone in the value of APA’s investments, due to the recent stock market rally). I would note here as well that APA’s leadership now has a year to take creative steps to insure that no APA staff jobs are lost as a result of any hotel-related financial losses.

6. Your appeal to the ironclad requirements of “APA policy” also seems substantially weakened by clear evidence that APA’s leadership considers policy prescriptions optional in other contexts. For example, almost a full year after last fall’s membership referendum prohibited psychologists from working in national security detainee settings such as Guantanamo Bay, this “official APA policy” has still not been implemented.

To conclude, this is a difficult time for many APA members to accept an argument along the lines of “Trust us, we can be counted on to do the right thing.” Sadly, I think that sense of trust will need significant rebuilding before faith in the APA leadership is fully restored. At the same time, I recognize that APA’s current contract with the Manchester Hyatt poses a complex set of issues and challenges, and that your job here is not an easy one. That said, I think your apparent decision to forgo tough, savvy, and legally-astute negotiations with the Manchester Hyatt is premature, and I believe your effort to forestall a principled boycott of the hotel by APA divisions and governance members is misguided as well.

Thank you for your time and attention to my concerns. I look forward to any response you might care to offer, and I welcome your sharing this letter with others who might be interested.

Sincerely,

Roy Eidelson, Ph.D.
APA Member since 1982
President, Eidelson Consulting (www.eidelsonconsulting.com)
President, Psychologists for Social Responsibility (www.psysr.org)
610-513-8685

UPDATE: In a reply to my letter, Dr. Goodheart expressed her hope that more information on APA’s plans will be available for the membership sometime in the next two weeks.

The role that psychologists and the American Psychological Association (APA) have played in the context of detainee abuse and torture is a pressing concern for the profession of psychology and for everyone committed to human rights.

There are now many excellent resources available for those interested in learning more and taking action–including carefully researched articles and books, exceptional documentaries, and an increasing number of publicly available official documents.

My 10-minute video above–“No Place to Hide: Torture, Psychologists, and the APA”–provides a brief, timely overview of what has unfolded over the past several years and where things stand today. I extend my thanks to colleagues who have shared their insights and expertise with me.

The video is also available on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o84RE-9023U.

The Pew Research Center for the People & the Press has been polling Americans on this key question for almost five years. Since 2004, representative samples have been asked, “Do you think the use of torture against suspected terrorists in order to gain important information can often be justified, sometimes be justified, rarely be justified, or never be justified?” The results over this time period have shown only minor fluctuations. The most recent numbers, from last month, reveal that 15% of Americans believe torture is often justified, 34% think it is sometimes justified, 22% consider it rarely justified, and 25% believe torture is never justified. So not only do 49% consider torture justified at least some of the time, fully 71% refuse to rule it out entirely.

Further insight into these numbers can be garnered from a different poll conducted a few months ago, in January 2009. Fox News/Opinion Dynamics asked a national sample of Americans, “Do you think the use of harsh interrogation techniques, including torture, has ever saved American lives since the September 11 (2001) terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon?” The results: 45% “Yes” and 41% “No” (with 14% responding “Don’t Know”). In other words, almost half of Americans think torture “works.”

Polling data on how Americans view specific interrogation techniques that were part of the Bush era arsenal are harder to find. But a national Gallup poll in January 2005, about eight months after the Abu Ghraib prisoner abuse scandal, sheds some light here. The following question was posed: “Here is a list of possible interrogation techniques that can be used on prisoners. Do you think it is right or wrong for the U.S. government to use them on prisoners suspected of having information about possible terrorist attacks against the United States?” In order of approval percentages, the survey found that 50% approved of depriving prisoners of sleep for several days; 36% approved of threatening to transfer prisoners to a country known for using torture; 29% approved of threatening prisoners with dogs; 18 % approved of forcing prisoners to remain naked and chained in uncomfortable positions in cold rooms for several hours; 14% approved of strapping prisoners on boards and forcing their heads underwater until they think they are drowning; and 13% approved of having female interrogators make physical contact with Muslim men during religious observances that prohibit such contact.

Based on this sampling of polling results, it is easy at first to be surprised and troubled by the degree to which Americans have expressed support for the inhumane treatment and torture of detainees. But public sentiment on such matters does not emerge in a vacuum. Rather, it often reflects the influence of carefully orchestrated marketing campaigns by powerful vested interests eager to shape opinion in support of a specific agenda or facts on the ground. Certainly it is now well known that the Bush administration embraced the use of “enhanced interrogation techniques” in national security settings. It is therefore instructive to carefully consider the five-pronged message that they and their backers promoted to create a citizenry supportive of torture.

The first component involved fostering a “war on terror” environment of pervasive fear in which the prospect of massive, catastrophic harm was repeatedly given center stage. Spurred on by improbable ticking time-bomb scenarios where every second matters, perceptions of an urgent need to protect the country from looming disaster created a “whatever it takes” mentality in which efforts to extract crucial information through harsh interrogations and torture became a “no brainer.”

The second element advanced the view that we need not be helpless against this threat because through torture–and torture alone–we can learn what we need to foil the plans of evildoers. Unsubstantiated evidentiary claims, hidden from inspection by veils of secrecy, were used to argue that specific interrogation techniques–regardless of how they might repulse us–were ultimately the only way we could protect ourselves.

Third was the frequent assurance that those we subjected to torture were themselves guilty of having participated in heinous acts of injustice that caused the loss of many innocent lives. This argument served to diminish concerns the public might have felt over the treatment these individuals received while in custody. Even in the absence of legal proceedings, the detainees could be deemed deserving of the physical and psychological pain inflicted upon them–they were responsible for their own suffering.

Fourth was the repeated assertion that the United States has a finely tuned moral compass and engages in torture only with regret and discomfort, only as a last resort, and only in the service of a far greater good. Sharp contrasts were drawn between “them” and “us”–between the detainees’ innate evilness and our inherent goodness, between their vile aims and our righteous purpose. In this context, the interrogators were presented as courageous and heroic, worthy of praise rather than criticism.

The fifth and final component was a concerted effort to stifle open debate when questions about the use of “enhanced interrogation techniques” arose. Standard strategy here involved painting skeptics and critics–including human rights leaders and organizations–as untrustworthy, irresponsible, misinformed, weak, or unpatriotic. In so doing, the public was encouraged to discount, ignore, or condemn these voices of concern, and important words of warning therefore went unheeded.

In sum, this seemingly successful campaign of mass persuasion depended upon convincing the public to believe five things: (1) our country is in great danger, (2) torture is the only thing that can keep us safe, (3) the people we torture are monstrous wrongdoers, (4) our decision to torture is moral and for the greater good, and (5) critics of our torture policy should not be trusted. And all the while, the marketers painstakingly avoided using the actual word “torture”–and contested the word’s use by anyone else. Of course, this strategy is by no means unique to the selling of torture. A similar approach, designed for hawking war, was used with devastating and tragic effect in building public support for the invasion of Iraq in 2003.

Admittedly, we cannot be sure that torture would be less popular with Americans today if the Bush administration had not worked so hard to promote it. But there is good reason to think this might be the case. After all, the combination of an outsized public relations budget, an overly accommodating mainstream media, and an unwary audience of millions is every marketer’s dream. In similar fashion, we cannot really know whether there would now be even greater public support for torture if not for the efforts of those who have steadfastly spoken out against our country’s interrogation abuses. Looking ahead, as still more information emerges through declassification of documents, high-level investigations, or congressional hearings, we should expect to hear this five-part sales pitch over and over again from Bush-era torture advocates. But hopefully this next time around, far fewer of us will still be buying.

The striking contrast highlights the fact that any long and difficult journey should be measured in two parts – the distance already traveled, and the distance still left to go. Both measurements are necessary to really understand how much progress you’ve made toward reaching your destination. Neither one alone is sufficient.

This simple idea – appreciated by many a parent during road trips with young children repeatedly asking “Are we there yet?” – has special relevance for progressives as we contemplate where we stand today. On the one hand, we rejoice that the previous administration’s unprecedented incompetence, corruption, secrecy, and lawlessness are fading in our rear-view mirror each day. On the other hand, we are sobered by the realization that the horizon ahead is clouded by a crippled economy, an inadequate healthcare system, and multiple wars with no clear end in sight.

These competing tensions are readily apparent in the daily news headlines. One day last week, for example, an NBC News/Wall Street Journal poll revealed a sharp one-month jump – from 26% to 41% – in the percentage of Americans who think the country is headed in the right direction. A very encouraging sign. But then the following day the Labor Department reported that 651,000 people had lost their jobs in the month of February alone. These Americans are certainly not among those now brimming with greater optimism.

This is more than just a “half-empty versus half-full” moment. It’s a reminder that these dueling psychological perspectives will inevitably shape our efforts as we push forward in our pursuit of progressive goals, as we look for ways to collaborate with policymakers and with each other, and as we confront resistance from those who will smugly smile and celebrate if we fail.

Some valuable guideposts for this unfolding journey can be found in an intriguing study published last year by social psychologists Amanda Brodish, Paige Brazy, and Patricia Devine. Comparing the responses of White and non-White Americans to survey questions about racial progress in the United States, here’s what these researchers found:

• The non-White participants perceived significantly less progress toward equality for minorities in the U.S. than did their White counterparts.

• The non-White participants primarily relied on comparisons with the future rather than the past in forming their judgments about the extent of racial progress.

• A subset of White respondents displayed three characteristics: they focused on comparisons with past inequality, they emphasized that much progress has already been made, and they scored higher than others on a measure of racial prejudice.

Although this study focused specifically on perceptions about racial progress, it can help illuminate the challenges facing progressives as we track our progress toward a more equitable world.

First, many of those who have suffered most egregiously from the heartless and greed-driven agenda of the Bush years will understandably be skeptical and slow to embrace the view that better days have arrived. They will not easily be persuaded that things are suddenly different now. Personal experiences of hardship and injustice create powerful and stubborn mindsets that are not quickly changed without tangible improvements in the circumstances of people’s daily lives. A freshly-paved road offers little promise if your car is stuck in the mud.

Second, over time many vulnerable individuals and groups – for whom progressive policy alternatives offer real hope – will evaluate their situations much more in terms of goals not yet achieved rather than on the basis of progress made to date. Although this particular focus may seem to discount important advances, it represents a reasonable perspective for those who have learned that their plight and efforts have typically been forgotten as soon as the news cycle changes. Ongoing forward momentum requires never coming to a complete stop. Or to look at it another way, no matter how clean and attractive it may be, a highway rest stop is nobody’s dream home.

Finally, given their support for “free” markets and greater inequality, many conservatives will be quick to argue that enough change has already taken place – while secretly longing for the “good old days” of elite rule and consolidated wealth. Despite appeals to bipartisanship, they will oppose and obstruct all efforts to advance policies with real redistributive effects, claiming that they are unnecessary, unwarranted, or dangerous. In short, as progressives we need to recognize that Rush Limbaugh and his supporters will never be well-behaved passengers on the road trip we’re undertaking. Given a chance, they will grab the steering wheel from us, find excuses for time-consuming detours, or simply flatten the tires. As we’ve recently heard from the very top of their ranks, they would love to see us fail.

There is no doubt that this is an ascendant moment and a special opportunity for progressive advocates for a more just society. But this new era has begun during a time of turmoil and despair. For many people, things are slipping backward even as the stage is finally set to move forward.

Unfortunately, we simply don’t get to live in the utopian world where the first leg of our collective journey unfolds under cloudless skies. These realities reinforce the critical role that dueling perspectives on progress will play in the weeks and months ahead – and we need to understand all of them. Psychological perceptions will often be at least as important as any facts on the ground. So even when we think we’ve traveled great distances in leaving the past eight years behind us, we are wise to heed the warning on our car’s side-view mirror: “Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.”