To the formulaic-ness of it, there’s the recurring ha-ha-only-serious quip from the If Books Could Kill podcasters that the more bad self-help, political hack, and trendy “science” books they read, the more sure they are that they’re all actually the same book.
I used to be a sucker for this type of books: non-fiction, "science-based", feel-good, insight-porn pamphlets inflated to 300 pages with shoehorned anecdotes and a very distinct flavour of extrapolative slop.
They are usually written by journalists, TED-addicted researchers and, more recently, Youtube and Twitter influencers.
The depressing thing is: For me, the realization that 99% of them are shit only came after reading hundreds of them. My guess is that my brain needed enough samples in order to start accurately classifying them.
It's like one develops taste only after being exposed to a lot of terrible art, since then the actual great art stands out like a beacon.
Certain social science or liberal arts programs are pretty good at, if nothing else, pushing students to get better at that “third reading” and developing a heuristic, automatic sense for when a piece is behaving in a maybe-dodgy way, but I think a lot of other programs aren’t, so even educated people, at least those who don’t just naturally pick the skill up young, may take a rougher road to it, if they ever pick it up. (Yes, I’m aware that my calling out some social science training as a good way to hone that skill is funny, given how much junk science, pop and otherwise, centers around the social sciences)
[1] Adler’s three readings are: 1) coming to terms—that is, seeking an understanding of the basic assumptions, definitions, context, et c, the author is operating under, and the basic thrust or topic or goal of the work; 2) Understanding the author’s argument, message, points and so forth; 3) critical reading—is the message any good? Does it hold together? Are the definitions and premises well-considered, useful, and applied consistently? Does that passage there look a bit iffy, is perhaps worded like the author’s trying to get away with something, and maybe needs a closer look? If such-and-such part crumbles on closer examination or consultation of other sources, what of the rest is salvageable, if any?
I'll give you one concrete example: "Presence: Bringing Your Boldest Self to Your Biggest Challenges", by Amy Cuddy. That book was based on the (now completely falsified) theory of "Power posing"[0], which the author published peer-reviewed papers on.
It's a neat little grift: publish a couple of papers, get yourself a TED talk, sign a book deal, and suddenly you're getting hired to teach leadership courses to clueless MBAs and give conference talks to bored executives.
Researchers can still be wrong, but usually less belligerently so. The academic publication process and the science it prodices, for all its flaws, generally forces researchers towards more nuanced and continent positions.