The Stanford Prison Experiment and Its Enduring Lessons About Authority

In 1971, a groundbreaking experiment was conducted in the basement of Stanford University that aimed to reveal dark truths about power, authority, and the human psyche. This study, known as the Stanford Prison Experiment, has fascinated and horrified the world for over five decades and has become a staple in psychology courses and popular culture as a stark warning about how quickly people can oppress under the right conditions . But was the story as simple as it seemed?

I know about the Stanford Prison Experiment – ​​or at least I know the common myths that circulate about it. That’s why I was very interested when the Nat Geo team told me about this documentary and revealed that the actual participants provide a behind-the-scenes look after all these years.

The new Nat Geo documentary series The Stanford Prison Experiment: Unlocking the Truth takes a fresh look at this infamous study, revealing unexpected perspectives and challenging the entrenched narrative around it. Through candid interviews with former participants, we see a new perspective on the experiment’s ethical ambiguities and its complex psychological implications.

I had the opportunity to speak with two of them, Dave Eshleman (a “guard”) and Clay Ramsay (a “prisoner”). Her reflections paint a picture of manipulation, blurred ethical boundaries, and a study that may reveal less about human nature than the dangers of constructed power dynamics.

Dissolving the myth

The Stanford Prison Experiment is often summarized as clear evidence of how easily ordinary people can commit extraordinary atrocities when given the appropriate authority. Under the guidance of Dr. Philip Zimbardo, 24 students were used as either guards or prisoners and placed in a simulated prison environment that was supposedly designed to last two weeks. Six days of escalating abuse by guards followed, prompting Zimbardo to end the experiment early. Over the years, this has been taken as evidence that anyone can become an oppressor under the right conditions.

But as Eshleman and Ramsay reveal, the reality was more complicated. Eshleman remembers accepting his role as a “mean guard” to meet Zimbardo’s expectations. “After the first day, I felt that the experiment would not be successful if nothing changed,” he shared, explaining that he felt compelled to push boundaries, influenced in part by his background in theater. According to Eshleman, his portrayal of a brutal guard wasn’t just a descent into cruelty – it was a performance shaped by the perceived demands of the experiment’s leaders. As he thinks about it, he sees himself being manipulated into fulfilling a role rather than revealing a dark truth about himself.

Ramsay, who was assigned the role of a prisoner, was equally shocked by the conditions he was subjected to. When he first entered the “prison,” he expected a controlled academic study, rather than the intense psychological stress he had to endure. His decision to go on hunger strike arose out of frustration with what he saw as the exploitative nature of the experiment. “I only did this because I was sure that I had to create some kind of fear of consequences in the experimenters,” he shared. Reflecting on the psychological toll, Ramsay now believes that much of the trauma came not from the experiment itself, but from his ongoing notoriety and the way Zimbardo used their experiences to further his career and reputation in the world Strengthen psychology.

Taken together, these perspectives dismantle the simplistic narrative of ordinary people revealing latent cruelty, suggesting instead a history of manipulation and carefully constructed roles. Eshleman and Ramsay’s accounts, as well as the findings of other participants in the documentaries, raise significant questions about whether the behaviors exhibited were the result of human nature or the design of the experiment itself.

Power, authority and the manipulation of human behavior

The Stanford Prison Experiment was intentionally created to enforce rigid power hierarchies. Contestants like Eshleman and Ramsay didn’t have to discover their roles naturally; Instead, they were explicitly instructed in behaviors that fit Zimbardo’s vision for the study. From the beginning, Zimbardo’s role as designer and “supervisor” gave him tremendous authority, a power that likely influenced how participants felt they should behave.

For example, Eshleman describes feeling like he was part of the research team and not just a subject, and he believed it was his responsibility to ensure the success of the experiment. He remembers taking an aggressive stance because he believed it would help Zimbardo achieve his goals. Ramsay also describes the feeling of a discrepancy between his initial expectations and the intensity of his experience as a prisoner. Both felt that their actions were constrained by Zimbardo’s expectations, an ethical gray area that calls into question the validity of the experiment’s results.

The ethical implications of this power dynamic are significant. When researchers exert authority over participants and encourage certain behaviors, this complicates the boundary between observation and manipulation. In SPE, this blurred line means that the guards’ behavior may have been less a revelation of human nature and more a performance based on external pressures and perceived expectations.

Questioning the legacy – A critical look at Zimbardo’s role

Zimbardo, who recently died at age 91, has long defended the Stanford Prison Experiment as a legitimate insight into the darker side of human nature, but over the years his narrative has changed. In this series he appears to continue to justify the study’s design and defend the results as reflecting genuine psychological responses to authority. However, both Eshleman and Ramsay challenge this view. Eshleman recalls being “deceived” by the design of the experiment and manipulated into a performance that ultimately served Zimbardo’s professional ambitions rather than science. Ramsay also believes that the experiment’s legacy has been shaped by selective retellings that favor Zimbardo’s version of events.

For Eshleman and Ramsay, Zimbardo’s enduring fame and evolving narrative underscore a central problem in the scientific community: the risk of “bad science” perpetuated by personal ambition. Ramsay suggests that the true value of the documentary lies in exposing this flaw and allowing viewers to see how scientific mythologies are constructed and maintained. The SPE has inadvertently become a case study in the ethical responsibilities that researchers bear, particularly when their work influences public perceptions and societal beliefs.

Enduring lessons about human nature, authority and compliance

The Stanford Prison Experiment, along with other controversial studies such as the Milgram Experiment, have shaped our understanding of authority and obedience for generations. Nevertheless, the revelations shared with me by Eshleman and Ramsay suggest that the lessons we learn from such studies need to be reconsidered. Rather than accepting that ordinary people easily succumb to cruelty, these firsthand accounts remind us to consider how authority, expectations, and environmental factors influence our actions.

Eshleman’s struggle with personal responsibility, even as he admits to feeling manipulated, adds a complex dimension to the conversation about authority. His reflections reflect a larger truth: While we may live out roles in response to authority, we also have a responsibility to understand the impact of those roles on others. Ramsay’s reflections remind us that compliance can often be a survival mechanism rather than an indication of inherent cruelty.

Taken together, their experiences suggest that the true lesson of SPE lies not in some dark truth about humanity’s core nature, but in how easily our behavior can be influenced by the authority figures and structures around us.

Rethinking psychological authority research

The Stanford Prison Experiment has long been considered a cautionary tale about human nature, but perhaps caution should be directed toward the way we conduct and interpret research. The reflections shared by participants in this series reveal an experiment not about human depravity, but rather a flawed methodology guided by preconceived conclusions.

At a time when the ethics of psychological research are under greater scrutiny than ever, the history of SPE offers crucial lessons. Studies that shape public perception must adhere to high ethical standards to ensure that participants are respected and results are presented responsibly.

As readers, we must ask ourselves how authority influences behavior—not just in experiments, but in our own lives. In any hierarchical structure, it is important to understand the implications of power and responsibility. The Stanford Prison Experiment remains a striking example, not of human cruelty, but of the way narratives are constructed and the enduring influence of authority.

The Stanford Prison Experiment: Unlocking the Truth is now streaming on Disney+.