“When all think alike, no one thinks very much.” —Walter Lippman

My field of social work finds itself at an interesting juncture. To the general public, it is typically seen as a profession geared toward helping people from all walks of life. Recently, however, it has been all in on endorsing and conveying a particular flavor of truth and social justice born out of one side of the United States political two-party system. 

Take, for example, the standards promulgated by the Council on Social Work Education (CSWE), which are the foundation of all accredited undergraduate and graduate social work programs. Even a cursory perusal of this document reveals that it is infused with “critical social justice” rhetoric and terminology. What’s more, the National Association of Social Workers’ (NASW) Code of Ethics, used to guide all social work practitioners in the field working with clients, has not remained untouched by the influence of critical social justice ideology, as evidenced by its emphasis on diversity, equity and inclusion. Indeed, NASW’s “Standards for Clinical Social Work in Social Work Practice,” used to guide social workers within the mental health profession in particular, was recently revised to reflect a similar political leaning.

The NASW standards evidently emboldened a pair of researchers at my former university to conduct a study in which white and male undergraduate students were purposefully made to feel unsafe, resulting in a Department of Education Office of Civil Rights complaint. This is indicative of larger trends, given that a highly ranked social work journal had accepted for publication this research that documents what can only be described as “re-education” and “struggle session” pedagogical practices in teaching university students.

All of this matters because the role the social work profession plays is both large and societally important. For instance, according to the CSWE’s Directory of Accredited Programs, there are nearly 1,000 social work programs in the United States educating at least 150,000 students. Meanwhile, the U.S. Bureau of Labor estimates that there are more than 800,000 practicing social workers. Social workers provide assistance in areas ranging from child welfare and geriatrics to health care and support for people with developmental disabilities. Moreover, social workers comprise over 500,000 of the behavioral health workforce—meaning that if you step into the office of a psychotherapist, there’s a good chance that you’re meeting with a social worker.

Social workers are being trained in an academic ethos that remains ideologically tilted to the left, both among social work faculty and the professoriate at large. And yet, these same people are serving a politically diverse country. For example, a July 2025 Pew Research poll suggests 46% and 45% of Americans lean Republican and Democratic, respectively. And in the 2024 presidential election, the Republican candidate received 49.8% of the popular vote, compared to 48.3% for the Democratic candidate.

Social workers are being trained in an academic ethos that remains ideologically tilted to the left, both among social work faculty and the professoriate at large. And yet, these same people are serving a politically diverse country.

In his 2021 book Why It's OK To Speak Your Mind, the philosopher Hrishikesh Joshi introduces the idea of the epistemic commons. Described as the shared “stock of evidence, ideas, and perspectives that are alive for a given community,” Joshi argues that the epistemic commons is a vital resource to ensure groups of people can more effectively pursue truth while addressing biases and blind spots. It necessitates viewpoint diversity, encouragement of dissenting and alternative views, challenges on consensus, and a group-wide commitment to protecting the commons. Crucially, Joshi contends there is an ethical responsibility for shielding the commons to safeguard against social pressures to conform.

For social work, I believe that the ethical imperative in maintaining our epistemic commons is doubly important—both for the health of the field as a discipline of study as well as to better equip budding practitioners for working with clients from all walks of life. And yet, thanks to critical social justice ideology, the overall tenor of contemporary social work education strikes me as severely limited in scope. It is focused more and more on engaging in proselytizing practices, such as continued efforts to “purge” the social work field of what many perceive as the presence of ableism, neoliberalism, and white supremacy. This academic ethos is antithetical to how I was trained in my master’s program just a decade ago when the emphasis was on respecting differences and empowering clients while employing a strengths-based approach—ideals that still remain in the NASW’s Code of Ethics and that, until very recently, social work textbooks have written about.

Instead, elites within the profession employ social justice talking points as a form of status signaling. Some of those talking points promote beliefs that benefit the upper class and inadvertently inflict harm on lower classes while maintaining distorted socio-political narratives in moralizing and conformist ways. This tends to occur in an academic environment in which emotional safety is prioritized over real learning and other higher education values, and group identities and divisiveness are accentuated over universalism, cohesion, and genuine inclusion. This is a culture arguably bolstered by professional organizations’ (e.g., CSWE, NASW) standards and policies providing permission for people in the academy to tailor their meanings to push a particular socio-political and ideological hegemonic agenda.

If this doesn’t change, social work will remain an über-biased encapsulated bubble of oil floating amidst a sea of diverse socio-political beliefs and values. Indeed, if the status quo remains in place, I am especially worried about the long-term risk of producing more and more ideologically intolerant practitioners in an academic ethos defined by group polarization, likely in the name of conformity, obedience, or by virtue of being gaslit. Unfortunately, however, instead of calling for a rethinking or reassessment of these recent trends, many scholars in the field are advocating for the social work profession to double down on ideas like dismantling capitalistic and ableist “collective structures of oppression” in order to counter perceived conservative existential threats.

Collectively, this begs the question of what will be the likely impact if the stark discrepancy is not reconciled to ensure that the profession is more sensitive to and inclusive of the beliefs, values, politics, and experiences of people from all walks of life? Social work can’t be choosy about what kinds of diversity and inclusivity the profession tolerates and advocates for—or, for that matter, what kind of ideas, questions, and perspectives are worth exploring and seriously considering in a university setting, even if they go against the grain. If this incongruity is not addressed, the likely long-term impact cannot be understated: Social work risks being considered an undisciplined discipline with increasingly limited influence and, most importantly, negligible social utility.