Summarize/

Summarize and Reaction the readings (1,2,3,4,5)

Summarize the readings (Research Design and Discussion):

1. The foundations of research: chapter 7 (Pages 157 – 189)

2. Your research project: chapter 7 (pages 305 – 408)

3. Bono, J. E., & McNamara, G. (2011). From the Editors_Publishing in AMJ-Part 2: Research Design. Academy of Management Journal, 54(4), 657-660.

4. Zhang, Y., & Shaw, J. D. (2012). Publishing in AMJ—Part 5: Crafting the methods and results. Academy of Management Journal. 8-12.

5. Geletkanycz, M., & Tepper, B. J. (2012). Publishing in AMJ–part 6: Discussing the implications.

***There are two main parts to the summary: ***

1. Summary of each chapter/article: Includes Title of Article, Author(s), Source, and Date of Article using APA style. In your OWN WORDS describe what the article is about, with major details or points, and should be easy to read (i.e. interesting and flow well!) (shows strong evidence of knowledge and understanding of the readings)

2. Reaction: Briefly describe the implications to scholars in academia (so what? in what ways you can utilize the ideas in the readings in your professional development as a scholar).

***Use easy words and easy Sentence***

The Foundations of Research
1
Research Skills
Authoring a PhD
The Foundations of Research (3rd edn)
Getting to Grips with Doctoral Research Getting Published
The Good Supervisor (2nd edn)
PhD by Published Work
The PhD Viva
Planning Your Postgraduate Research
The Lean PhD
The PhD Writing Handbook
The Postgraduate Research Handbook (2nd edn) The
Professional Doctorate
Structuring Your Research Thesis
Teaching and Learning
Series Editor: Sally Brown
Access to Higher Education
Coaching and Mentoring in Higher Education
Facilitating Work-Based Learning
Facilitating Workshops
For the Love of Learning
Fostering Self-Efficacy in Higher Education Students
Internationalization and Diversity in Higher Education
Leading Dynamic Seminars
Learning, Teaching and Assessment in Higher Education
Learning with the Labyrinth
Live Online Learning
Masters Level Teaching, Learning and Assessment
Reimagining Spaces for Learning in Higher Education
Successful University Teaching in Times of Diversity
2
The Foundations of Research
Third Edition
Jonathan Grix
3
© Jonathan Grix, under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Limited 2004,
2010, 2019
All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication
may be made without written permission.
No portion of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted save
with written permission or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988, or under the terms of any licence permitting
limited copying issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency, Saffron House, 6–10
Kirby Street, London EC1N 8TS.
Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may
be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The author has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work in
accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First edition 2004
Second edition 2010
This edition published 2019 by
RED GLOBE PRESS
Red Globe Press in the UK is an imprint of Springer Nature Limited, registered
in England, company number 785998, of 4 Crinan Street, London N1 9XW.
Red Globe Press® is a registered trademark in the United States, the United
Kingdom, Europe and other countries.
ISBN 978–1–352–00200–3 paperback
This book is printed on paper suitable for recycling and made from fully
managed and sustained forest sources. Logging, pulping and manufacturing
processes are expected to conform to the environmental regulations of the
country of origin.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress.
4
For Hannah
5
Contents
List of Figures
List of Tables
Preface
Introduction
The structure of the book
1 The Nature of Research
The ‘language’ of research
The nature of research
The nature of the doctoral process
Why do a PhD?
The right place to study
Matters of time
Familiarise yourself
Summary
Further reading
2 The ‘Nuts and Bolts’ of Research
The tools of research
Key terms in research
Summary
Essential reading
Further reading
3 Getting Started in Research
Getting started
Levels of analysis and types of research
Types of study
Summary
Essential reading
Further reading
4 The Building Blocks of Research
Ontology
6
Epistemology
Differing ontological and epistemological views
The directional relationship between ontology, epistemology,
methodology, methods and sources
The ‘social capital’ debate
Summary
Essential reading
5 Introducing the Key Research Paradigms
Research paradigms
Key perspectives in research
Summary: Disciplines, perspectives, discourses and
interdisciplinarity
Interdisciplinarity or ‘post-disciplinarity’
Summary
Essential reading
Further reading
6 The Types and Uses of Theory in Research
Introducing theory
The traditional view of theory
The role of theory in social research
Research paradigms and the role of theory
Different uses of theory
Inductive and deductive theory and research
Summary
Essential reading
Further reading
7 Introducing Research Methods
Quantitative research
Qualitative research
The quantitative–qualitative dichotomy: A false antithesis
Methods
Interview technique
Structured interviews
Triangulation, mixing methods and data, research design and
skills Summary
Essential reading
Further reading
7
8 Academic Standards, Plagiarism and Ethics in Research
Why worry about academic standards, plagiarism and ethics?
Ethics in research
Continuum of ethics in research
Summary
Essential reading
Further reading
Conclusion: Summary of Key Points
Appendix 1 Stages of the Research Process
The stages of doctoral research
Stage I
Stage II
Stage III
Appendix 2 Glossary of Research Terms
Bibliography
Index
8
List of Figures
2.1
3.1
3.2
4.1
4.2
5.1
6.1
8.1
A.1
Key tools used in research
Connection between elite sport and mass participation
Relationship between UK elite sport and participation
Continuum of key epistemological positions in human and
social sciences
The interrelationship between the building blocks of research
The key research paradigms
Different uses of theory in social research
Continuum of ethics in research
Steps of the research process
9
List of Tables
4.1
5.1
5.2
5.3
5.4
5.5
5.6
7.1
8.1
Alternative approaches to social capital research
Key disciplinary perspectives
Economics: neo-classical economics
Politics: rational choice theory (RCT)
International relations: realism
Sociology: functionalism
History: empiricism
The so-called quantitative–qualitative dichotomy
Referencing: The ‘Harvard’ and ‘Humanities’ methods of
referencing
A.1 Possible stages of the doctoral process
10
Preface to the 3rd edition
Revisiting an old text after many years is like meeting up with an
old friend after years and picking up where you left off – providing
you liked them in the first place. It is a great pleasure to be asked
to produce a 3rd edition of The Foundations of Research and
once again I have been persuaded by the positive feedback of
those people who use or have used the text.
If things in academia in the UK had changed in the six years
between the original text (2004) and the second edition (2010),
the landscape eight years on is unrecognisable. The introduction
of tuition fees for Higher Education has had a profound impact on
the nature of academic pursuit, the environment in which
academics work and their relationship with those to whom they
seek to impart their wisdom, the students. Some of the impacts
are the inexorable rise of the ‘manager-academic’, the inevitable
shift from student to consumer and the introduction of business
principles into every corner of academic life. The result is a
gradual erosion of creativity, less quality time with students and
the commercialisation of a public good, education. Going over this
text reminded me of an era in which time was available to think.
Re-engaging with this text is a good way of reminding myself of
why I signed up to academia in the first place.
Changes from the 2nd to this 3rd edition revolve in great part
around advances in technology and the shift to online resources
and materials; thus, references to ‘CDs’ have inevitably given way
to advice on where to find quality academic material on the
internet. Chapter 7, for example, sees the inclusion of both online
surveys and a relatively new method of research, ‘Q’
methodology, which is unusual in that it uses quantitative research
to study people’s subjective understanding – this, too, can be
distributed to participants via a web-based link. Apart from
stripping out the old and adding in the new, I have also updated
references wherever possible or relevant – it is not relevant to
seek an update of Max Weber’s notion of the ideal type, for
example, unless new research has uncovered something we did
11
not know. I have also peppered the book with some fresh
examples to attempt to bring to light specific points I wish to make.
As before, the present book is based upon the simple notion of
the need for students and scholars to understand the tools and
terminology of research before they begin actual research.
Advanced undergraduates, postgraduates and researchers all
need to familiarise themselves with the language of research, in
order to understand and to produce clear academic work
themselves. It is to these groups that this book is addressed. For
first-time researchers (undertaking an undergraduate or Master’s
dissertation), the book offers a guide to the basic scaffolding of
research tools and terms; for the doctoral student and researcher,
it provides a reference for particular areas of a study (for example,
ontological and epistemological issues); and for all groups, it
functions as an accompaniment to courses in research methods
and methodology.
Many of the ideas in this book have their humble origins from a
pub discussion with Charlie Jeffery over two decades ago. Charlie
was not only my doctoral supervisor in the mid-1990s, but was
also of great help to me during our time together at the Institute for
German Studies at the University of Birmingham.
Between 2013 and 2017, my intellectual home was in the
School of Sport, Exercise and Rehabilitation Sciences at the
University of Birmingham, working with Paul Brannagan and Ceri
Wynne. I must say that this was one of the most enjoyable periods
of my academic career hitherto despite the wider developments
touched on above. As a small team, we not only achieved an
awful lot, but we had a good laugh in the process. I have since
moved on to Manchester Metropolitan University to lead a team of
sports-related scholars there. The support myself and my team
have received from our Head of Department, Donna Lee, and our
Dean, Julia Clarke, has made this an especially enjoyable
transition.
I would like to thank Suzannah Burywood for her support of this
and other projects and Helen Caunce for being persistent. This
persistence has resulted in a better book.
On the subject of re-acquaintance, I am very grateful to Bernie
Coughlin, my best mate at school, for seeking me out 30 years
after I last saw him and imparting his view of the world. He is, and
always was, original. I would also like to repeat the thanks I gave
12
to Louis, Hannah and Andrea in the 1st and 2nd editions of this
text for their ongoing and unwavering support. This time I have to
include Alfie Dog, a characterful canine companion to our family.
This edition of the book is dedicated to Hannah, who despite – or,
indeed, in part because of – a couple of real challenges in life has
developed into a splendid character.
13
Introduction
The purpose of this volume is to introduce and discuss the
foundations of research. The main aim is to equip students with
some of the most important tools and terminology of research as
well as with an understanding of these terms. If you command the
basic vocabulary of generic research, you are far more likely to
choose the correct theories, concepts or methods to use in your
work. By grasping the core tools used in research, much of the
mystery that can surround it begins to disappear.
Moreover, knowledge of the ‘nuts and bolts’ that make up social
research can go a long way to ensuring that the tools of research
are used properly. If you have the right equipment and you know
how to employ it, the research process becomes a great deal
easier and quicker. In the following chapters, then, I am interested
in clarifying the terms and terminology associated with research –
that is, any research, whatever discipline within the human
sciences – and to offer an introductory, and, hopefully, thoughtprovoking discussion on some of the key issues in research. The
text is thus generic and non-disciplinary; that is, it takes a step
back from disciplines and their assumptions and presents the
tools common to most social research.
My target audience is advanced undergraduates and those
undertaking postgraduate taught and research degrees. I am
primarily interested in the social sciences and those parts of the
humanities, especially history, that deal with social phenomena.
Instead of repeating that mouthful throughout the book, I shall opt
for the shorthand ‘human sciences’ whenever I wish to refer to the
area this volume is intended to cover. The issues dealt with in this
book, though, are important for a wide range of academic
disciplines and not, as is mistakenly believed, just for political
scientists and sociologists. All students and scholars in the human
sciences – this ranges from cultural studies, through history and
economics to social psychology and international relations – need
to know, be clear about and reflect upon the foundations of
research.
14
The following chapters are not only about defining the key
terminology of the foundations of research, but they also address
some of the most fundamental issues concerning research in the
human sciences. These include the so-called ‘dichotomies’ of
quantitative vs. qualitative research strategies, the structure–
agency
problem and inductive vs. deductive research strategies. As will
become apparent, I believe that these dichotomies have their use
in discerning between specific aspects in research, but I also
believe they should be seen as complementary and not opposing
entities. A few quick examples will suffice at this stage.
Given the temporal constraints of most research, and the fact
that a researcher needs some sort of guide to her pursuit of
knowledge, some form of preconceived idea, notion or hunch is
essential to begin the research process (this is the basis of the
‘induction–deduction’ dichotomy, see Chapter 6). Indeed, without
it there is nothing to animate a research question or design, or to
motivate research in the first place. Even strong supporters of
research that generates theory will have gone into the field with
some preconceived ideas of what they were looking for. Equally,
as will become apparent, the ‘quantitative–qualitative’ divide
among researchers, who disagree about the role of theory in
research and, above all, about ‘the sequence and relationship of
activities involved’ (Robson and McCartan, 2016: 45) in the
process, is rarely reflected in real-life research projects (see
Chapter 7).
Throughout the following chapters, I take you through the most
important foundations of the research process and clarify many of
the concepts used in the human sciences. I approach the process
of uncovering the foundations of research from a generic angle,
rather than from any specific discipline within the human sciences.
The building blocks of research are similar for all disciplines with
this focus. It is the order and level of importance given to the core
components of research, and the philosophical assumptions that
underlie them, that distinguish one discipline’s methodological
approach from another.
Finally, the book is designed to be both a reference text and a
logically constructed book, with chapters building on previous
chapters. There is a full glossary in Appendix 2 which can be
referred to and an index to locate areas of interest. Indeed, it may
15
be a good first step to look through the glossary to familiarise
yourself with some of the terms and ideas there.
The structure of the book
The book is divided into nine chapters. Chapter 1 introduces the
nature of research. First, I touch on the language used in research
and why it is necessary to understand it. Then I turn to the nature
of and difference between BA/BSc, MA and PhD research,
allowing a little extra space for the latter, as the PhD does differ
from a first degree and MA in many ways. The rest of the chapter
offers advice on thinking about where to study, as it is very
important to find a good match between what you want to study
and the facilities and resources of the place where you wish to
study. Further, I discuss how to manage your time, a crucial
element of any successful research strategy and the need to
familiarise yourself with and prepare yourself for the task ahead. It
is surprising how many students launch themselves into their
dissertation or thesis without being fully aware of what is expected
of them.
An introduction to, and discussion of, the all-important tools and
terminology which make up the ‘nuts and bolts’ of research, and
by which research is conducted, form the main subject of the
second section in Chapter 2. The aim is to demystify the
terminology and to reveal the core theoretical and analytical
questions that must be addressed in any piece of research. As I
have already suggested, it is only with a clear understanding of
the terminology employed in research and the underlying issues
this terminology reflects that you can begin to plan your project.
You are advised to reflect not only on the variety of meanings of a
specific concept, but on its origins. Chapter 2 also briefly
discusses and clarifies key concepts and terms in research, such
as typologies, ideal types, paradigms, methods and methodology.
The important concept of ‘theory’ is dealt with at length separately
(Chapter 6). The idea here, as elsewhere in this text, is not to
replace a comprehensive course in research methods, but rather
to put you in a position to understand and even enjoy a methods
course and to be more reflexive in your own studies. You will also
16
be in a position to identify the essential parts of the research
process most relevant to your project.
This prepares the way for Chapter 3, ‘Getting Started in
Research’, which turns its attention to the mechanics of research
and the foundations of the research process. As focusing your
topic early is very important, this chapter concentrates on:
developing research questions or hypotheses with which to guide your
research;
the process of defining and refining a research question or hypothesis;
the relationship between the research question or hypothesis and the
methods and sources to be employed in your work.
The necessity of arriving at a set of research questions or
hypotheses cannot be overstated, for without specific questions
you will not be able to organise your project. This is not to imply
that research questions cannot be generated from fieldwork (the
inductive method). However, on a pragmatic level, few students
have the time or funds to gather sufficient quantities of data with
the intention of finding relevant questions or observing specific
phenomena, especially given the limited time they have to finish
their projects.
Chapter 3 also introduces the notion of a continuum of literature
reviews, ranging from the most common starting point of research
(i.e. familiarising yourself with a topic) to speed reading texts after
fieldwork and data analysis. The latter sections of the chapter are
given over to a brief discussion of the level of analysis you choose
in your project. This leads on to one of the most important themes
in the human sciences, the structure and agency problem. After a
summary of what is usually understood by these two concepts, I
outline the two most common ‘types’ of research that are on offer:
case study and comparative.
Chapter 4 offers a discussion of the building blocks in the
foundations of research: ontology and epistemology. A lot of
mystery surrounds these concepts and it is my intention to present
you with an accessible introduction to understanding what these
concepts mean, why they are essential to our research and how
they relate to other key building blocks of research. This I do by
presenting the thesis of a directional relationship between
ontology, epistemology, methodology, methods and even sources.
The purpose of this complicated-sounding exercise is quite
17
simple: to show how a person’s starting point in research (their
ontological position) has major implication for (1) what they
believe we can and should research; and (2) how we can go
about researching it. By doing so, this chapter throws light on the
influence traditions of research have on the entire research
process. By bringing clarity to the foundations of research, we
place ourselves in a position of knowledge, one from which it is
possible to adjudicate between the myriad of approaches to social
phenomena on offer. Without such clarity and knowledge of the
basics, we run the risk of simply arguing past each other.
Chapter 5 builds on Chapter 4 by offering an overview of the
key traditions in social research and examples of the main
perspectives in economics, political science, international
relations, sociology and historical studies respectively. Although
there are a great number of books dealing with the key research
paradigms on the market, many of which go into minute detail, I
think it is a good idea to present at least the contours of the key
traditions of positivism, (critical) realism and interpretivism.
Additionally, I shall briefly introduce post-modernism and
feminism, which do not share the long history of the other
conventional traditions, but nonetheless need to be discussed, as
the challenges they pose to research thinking are to be taken
seriously.
The second section of Chapter 5 offers a brief description of the
disciplinary perspectives that fall under the broad umbrella of
‘positivism’ by presenting their aims, key assumptions, key
themes, key concepts, limitations, chief advocates and seminal
works. Such a wide overview will arm you further with most of the
terms and terminology you are likely to encounter in your studies,
thereby enabling you to understand the language of research. In
addition, and of equal importance, I shall align these perspectives
according to their research paradigm (positivism, interpretivism,
etc.), in order to show the similarities/dissimilarities among certain
perspectives. Although this method of grouping and categorising
academic perspectives may be seen as crude – given that it is
difficult, and not necessarily desirable, to shoehorn perspectives
into certain categories – it nonetheless offers an overview of an
often impenetrable and overwhelming area of study. It will also, I
hope, encourage you to think beyond narrow disciplinary
boundaries.
18
There is perhaps no more confusing concept in research than
that of theory. For this reason, Chapter 6 is given over to
discussing theory and its role in research. Unlike many of the
concepts introduced in Chapter 2, ‘theory’ is unable to be fixed in
meaning and thus avoids a simple, single definition. What we can
do, however, is discuss in detail why it has come to mean what it
has – a ‘testable’ proposition, a hypothetical statement against
which ‘reality’ is tested in the field – with reference to the influence
of positivism and positivist research. Once we understand that this
is simply one way of conceiving of theory, we are ready to discuss
others. This is done with reference to the traditions of research
above, and how they conceive of theory, and to the many different
types of theory available in research.
Chapter 7 is built around the ‘quantitative–qualitative’
dichotomy. Here I discuss some examples of methods commonly
used to collect and analyse empirical data, including interviews,
participant observation, documentary analysis and media
analysis. The purpose of the methods section is not to offer a
comprehensive account of types of procedures for data collection
and analysis, but rather to introduce a series of methods with
which to collect and generate data and to indicate how the choice
of which ones to use in a study is governed by a certain logic
contained in the methodology employed or the rationale of the
research.
In addition to an overview of some of the most frequently used
methods in the human sciences, I turn my attention to the notion
of ‘mixing methods’ and ‘triangulation of methods’ in research.
Both of these notions are not without problems and need to be
thought about carefully. Equally, I discuss both research design
and research skills – two topics on which an increasing number of
texts are being produced.
Chapter 8 highlights two important aspects of research for
students to be aware of: the danger of accidental plagiarism by
improper referencing and poor note-taking, and the sensitive topic
of ethics. While ethics has always been important in research,
plagiarism has become increasingly so, especially as the internet
now offers an unquantifiable amount of easily accessible
information to download. In this section I also discuss what
constitutes proper referencing and how to avoid being accused of
cheating.
19
Ethics play a major part in any empirical research undertaken,
especially when involving people. Even storing data is an ethical
issue and should follow certain protocols. After an initial
discussion of the roots of ethics in social research, I give
examples for you to think through. I also present a continuum
along which I place certain types of research: for example, covert
undercover reporting, ‘borrowing’ documents, interviews and
‘deception’ research (i.e. dressing up and posing as a policeman).
At this point we are close to the nitty-gritty of research: your
awareness of professional academic standards and how they
impinge upon your research project.
Finally, Chapter 9 contains the conclusion, which sums up the
important messages that I hope you will take away from reading
this book.
Appendix 1 offers you a discussion on the possible sequencing
of research stages, an idea that simplifies and facilitates the
research process. Here I set out a guidelines to the process of
research that can be adapted and adjusted to suit individual
needs and circumstances. As I shall show, it is important for
students to imagine the direction their research will take at a very
early stage. Breaking the research process up into manageable
and comprehensible stages is all part of a successful research
strategy, so long as you retain a sense of the whole project.
Students will see that there is an inherent logic, albeit not always
the same in each case, to the research process and that the
stages presented impact greatly on one another and are
interlinked. I shall also touch on ‘managing’ the research process,
including the perennial mistake of not allowing enough time for the
completion of data collection.
Appendix 2, on the other hand, consists of a glossary of some
of the key terms used and often misunderstood in research. All of
the terms in bold in the main text can be found in the glossary.
The glossary can be used as a reference guide while reading this
and other texts, but will remain a useful companion throughout the
course of research. The choice of terms has been driven by their
importance for research in the human sciences, with a focus on
the building blocks essential to most research. Finally, I offer some
examples of proper referencing techniques most commonly used
in the human sciences.
20
Throughout the book my emphasis, then, is on clarity and
practicality – on how understanding the foundations of research
leads to better and clearer research.
21
1
The Nature of Research
This chapter introduces:
The ‘language’ of research
The nature of research
The idea of preparing yourself by considering where to study, time
management and by familiarising yourself with the task ahead
The aim of this first chapter is to begin to familiarise you with the
nature, tools and terminology of the research process. Central to
my aims is the ‘demystification’ of research, be it a BSc or BA
dissertation, an MSc, MA, MPhil, PhD or DPhil. The emphasis is
on the foundations of research and many of the terms and much
of the process will be applicable to all sustained research in the
human sciences. The following advice will also be of interest to
researchers who have to write lengthy dissertations or structured
research reports. From time to time it will be necessary to address
specific points relating to a higher degree, that is, the PhD, as
these are not relevant to advanced undergraduates or all
postgraduate work. The majority of the points made, however, are
fundamental to all research. This chapter also touches on the
differences between undergraduate, postgraduate and especially
PhD research.
First, I discuss the language of research; that is, the manner in
which it is presented and why it is important to learn the generic
terms of research in order to dispel the mystery surrounding the isms and -ologies that pepper research papers, research methods
books and courses. I then turn to the nature of research,
distinguishing between undergraduate dissertations, MAs and
PhDs. PhDs are given a special section, because they differ in so
many ways from the other two. The final three sections touch on
where to study, time management and familiarising yourself with
22
the task ahead. All these factors are relevant to what I am
concerned with here: the foundations of research. The choice of
where to study is most relevant for postgraduates, but also for
those undergraduates wishing to continue their studies. Time
management is a research skill and is essential for both
undergraduates and postgraduates. Finally, we turn to the most
obvious, yet underused idea of simply looking at what it is you are
supposed to be producing. Before we can embellish our work with
wonderful, sophisticated and insightful statements, we need to
know the mechanics of research: for example what does a
dissertation or thesis look like?
The ‘language’ of research
While we all know the old cliché ‘knowledge is power’, it is worth
reflecting on the ways in which knowledge is discussed, disputed
and disseminated. In the human sciences there are a number of
different ‘discourses’ between disciplines, for example economics,
history and cultural studies. Common to most discourses is the
basic language of research. Given the variety of uses of the terms
and terminology of human science research, it is hardly surprising
that students rarely have a firm grasp of the tools of their trade.
Different academics in different disciplines attach a wide range of
meanings and interpretations to the terminology of research. One
person’s ‘theory’ is another’s ‘taxonomy’, while another
researcher’s ‘ideal type’ is another’s ‘theory’, and so on. With little
or no knowledge of the standard reference points in general
research, you are likely to produce a dissertation or thesis which
is unclear and imprecise; learning the rules of the game simplifies
the process, makes it transparent and takes away the fear
associated with the unknown. It is my contention that in order to
be able to work within the parameters of the human sciences, you
need to be very clear about what the tools and terminology of
research are and what they mean before you can begin
researching. If you spend a little time learning the language of
research, discovering what the terms and concepts mean and
how they can be employed, the mystery associated with much of
academic work, especially at the postgraduate level, will begin to
disappear.
23
This may sound trivial, but given the fact that many students –
and seasoned academics, too, for that matter – have difficulty
differentiating between crucial terms such as ‘ontology’ (what is
out there to know about) and ‘epistemology’ (what and how can
we know about it), their subsequent research is bound to suffer,
as knowledge of these two key terms and their place in research
is essential to understanding the research process as a whole.
These particular terms (ontology and epistemology) are often
shrouded in ambiguity, partly created by the language in which
they are explained, leaving the reader more confused than she
was before she began reading. There is an obvious and urgent
need for agreement on the meaning of specific generic terms
across the disciplines in the human sciences to prevent the
confusion which surrounds many concepts at present. Suffice it to
say that this should not be understood as a call for unity of
methodological approaches, as diversity is essential for the
vibrancy of the human sciences, but rather a call for clarity on key
terms that can cross disciplines.
What other reasons are there for needing to know and
understand standard terms and concepts in social research? A
simple example will do: consider a would-be bricklayer who does
not know the difference between a trowel, a spirit level and a
chisel. These are the basic tools of his trade, without which no
wall can be built. Each tool has a specific purpose and, if it were
used wrongly (or in the wrong order), for example taking a chisel
to lay bricks, the results would be disastrous. In research, specific
tools have specific purposes and, if one is to employ them
correctly, one must first understand what they mean, what they
are meant to do and how and when to use them. The lack of
clarity and constancy of the social-research lexicon has led to a
minefield of misused, abused and misunderstood terms and
phrases with which students must contend. It has also led to
confusion surrounding the presentation of assumptions upon
which research is based. There is a need to be clear about these
assumptions and a need to know the research traditions from
which these assumptions spring. Thus, by familiarising ourselves
with the technical language of research, we effectively demystify
it.
No discussion about the language of research, however, can
avoid mentioning the bewildering array of -isms and -ologies used
24
in presenting research. Many of these terms are used wrongly or
imprecisely, which adds to the mystery of research and the
impenetrability of much of its output. Use of specific terms, for
example, ‘variables’, ‘relationships’, ‘measuring’, ‘covariation’ and
‘hypotheses’ (see also Ragin and Amoroso 2010: 12–14), denote
a sense of seriousness, of sound academic judgement, but the
fact of the matter is that merely using specific terms is no
guarantee of solid research. This is similar to those students who
state boldly in their essays that they have ‘critically assessed’ the
topic at hand; saying the word ‘critical’ – however many times –
does not equate to actually critically assessing anything. Many
researchers, as we shall see in the following chapters, refuse to
use the specific language touched on above when undertaking
and presenting their work, as they seek to distance themselves
from particular research paradigms (most notably ‘positivism’ –
see Chapter 5).
The nature of research
Undergraduate dissertations and MA dissertations have many
things in common. Both are pieces of sustained research of up to
and around 10,000–15,000 words. It is often said that the best
undergraduate essay gets near to or attains Master’s level of
work. At the Master’s level, students are expected to be far more
independent in their choice and execution of research projects.
Also, a Master’s in many social science topics would usually
contain an empirical case study, unless, of course, its key concern
was of a more theoretical nature. Such an empirical study usually
means a sustained amount of time spent on fieldwork, something
only a minority of undergraduates would have the time or
resources to do. Nonetheless, a solid undergraduate dissertation
should exhibit some characteristics similar to those of an MA
dissertation: a clear presentation of the problem; clear research
questions or hypotheses; an assessment of the current literature
around the topic at hand; a discussion of the methods,
methodology and sources employed in the project; a section
which attempts to address the research questions posed; and a
clear evaluation of the findings. Each of these sections, as I shall
point out throughout the following chapters, is logically interlinked.
25
If we leave the differences to one side, the question still
remains: what is research? Generally speaking, research at BA,
MA and PhD level will have a number of things in common:
1. You will have a question to ask or problem to solve (Chapter
3 discusses how to arrive at such a question).
2. You will set about answering your question by sifting through
a variety of data and sources, using specific research
methods (Chapter 7 introduces the best-known).
3. You will need a methodology to be able to answer your
questions (Chapters 2, 3, 4 and 5 discuss the underpinnings
of research).
4. You will need to think about how your project adds to
knowledge on this topic by either generating new knowledge,
making an intervention in the current literature or clarifying or
furthering existing work.
The distance between a solid MA (Master of Arts; Magister
Artium) dissertation and a PhD (Doctor of Philosophy;
Philosophea Doctor) is smaller than that between BA (Bachelor of
Arts; Baccalaureus Artium) and PhD, as the Master’s student will
already have had to contend with many issues confronting a
doctoral candidate. The leap from a BA to a PhD is great, but not
unbridgeable. The most obvious unique aspect of doctoral
research is the emphasis it places on the individual. There are
few taught elements of the degree, except for research training,
and the student is expected to have a high level of self-discipline
in order to be able to cope with only minimal guidance and
structure – in comparison to what students at BA or MA level are
used to. (This is not the case in the USA, where PhDs entail
required coursework. This is also not the case in the growing
number of ‘taught’ doctorates that are now available, usually in
more applied areas of study, for example education.) In addition,
PhD students will have to go through a comprehensive viva
examination, defending the work they have submitted. Selfdiscipline, of course, is needed for all types of sustained research
and is easier to produce if you have a keen interest in a subject in
the first place. This makes the choice of topic important for
26
undergraduates, essential for an MA and absolutely crucial for a
PhD.
The nature of the doctoral process
A PhD can be successfully completed by anyone who has a
certain amount of intelligence, and, importantly, the degree of
commitment necessary. This is not to suggest that obtaining a
doctorate is easy. Commitment and steely determination are
essential, but of little use if not accompanied by an open and
enquiring mind and a willingness to take criticism and advice and
to listen and learn from others. Herein lies the first difficulty: to
complete a higher degree successfully, you will have to reassess
and recalibrate your often deeply held opinions in the light of the
new material, arguments and debates that you will encounter on
your learning journey.
The first thing to note about a PhD is what it is not. It is rarely a
magnum opus, the study of all studies ever on a specific topic
(many educational systems, for example Germany, cater for this
by offering a higher doctorate option). There is plenty of time to
produce this afterwards, as most great thinkers in fact have. For
example, Albert Einstein and Karl Marx made relatively modest
contributions to their fields of research in their doctoral theses, but
they spent that time learning the tools of their trade while
‘demonstrating their fully professional mastery of the established
paradigms’ in their field (Phillips and Pugh 2010: 41).
Undertaking a PhD should be seen as a learning process, an
apprenticeship in the art of research in which you will learn to
reflect on the origins of theories and concepts, how to theorise,
how to mesh theory with practice, and how to prioritise and
organise a vast quantity of material into a readable text within a
restricted period of time. The discipline necessary for successfully
completing a doctorate will benefit the student far beyond the
walls of academia. There is no doubt that a solid formal education
will help you undertake a doctorate, but other factors such as
mental agility, inquisitiveness, motivation and discipline, which can
be acquired outside the school gates, are also beneficial.
Why do a PhD?
27
Denis Lawton makes a valid point in stating that just because you
are interested in something does not necessarily mean you should
write a PhD on it. You may be better off producing another kind of
book, one without the constraints and ‘hoops’ a PhD candidate is
required to jump through (Lawton 1999: 3). However, the
combination of both your interest and ability should ensure that
you have a good chance of being successful over the sustained
period of study. The point here is not to do a doctorate for the
sake of it. The title ‘Dr’ may be elevating – for a short while – but
that is not a good enough reason for spending at least three years
studying hard. As a researcher, you should be aiming to contribute
something new to an existing body of knowledge and, if you
cannot, you do not have a PhD thesis.
What you should avoid in all cases is to end up simply adding to
the increasing mountain of monographs, a scenario in which, as
George Steiner puts it, ‘the true source of Z’s tome is X’s and Y’s
work on the identical subject’ (Steiner 1991: 39). Instead, what
you should aim to do is to come as close as possible to what
Steiner terms ‘the immediate’, or, in the manner in which I
interpret it here, the event you are attempting to shed light on or
explain. The point of research should not be to give an analysis of
a critique of an event, but to deliver an interpretation of the event
itself. You need the tertiary material (texts on texts) and the
secondary material (others’ work on the event) to position and
guide your work and to situate your contribution, but the aim is to
complement this with primary or new material, or with a novel
interpretation. There is a certain tension here with the need to
produce original work within a restricted period of time.
The right place to study
If you are finishing a first degree and wish to continue with your
studies, now is the time to consider the right place for you and
your project, as choosing the right department in the first instance
is crucial. If you wish to undertake a taught Master’s, you need to
think very carefully about the ‘fit’ between what is on offer and
where you want to go. If you are taking a doctorate, you need to
consider a number of factors: if there are only two other
postgraduates in a given department, one working on a Marxist
28
interpretation of Franz Kafka’s Das Schloss and the other on an
econometric analysis of Dollar–Ruble exchange-rate dynamics,
you are not going into the best environment for, say, studying the
impact of the Iraq War on European–US relations. Apart from the
fact that this department will probably not have a European or US
expert, you will be isolated in your studies, with little chance of
either the type of feedback you require or the opportunities to
present ongoing work in postgraduate seminars.
Do not let your choice of department be guided solely by an
internationally renowned scholar – if there are half a dozen in the
department, then that is fine. Otherwise, leading scholars have a
tendency to be in great demand and will almost certainly have a
large number of Master’s and doctoral students, a heavy
conference schedule (i.e. they are very often abroad when you
need to see them) and it may be hard to make an appointment
with them. Their turnaround time on giving feedback on versions
of your work – an important part of your development – could be
months. If, however, there are a number of capable scholars in a
given department, this will be less of a concern, as you will always
have somebody with whom you can discuss your ideas, providing
your topic chimes with the research interests of the department.
Remember, too, the dangers associated with all supervisors,
celebrities or not. These include:
you doing your supervisor’s project;
you never being able to come up with an original idea (because he or
she has been there, done that, etc.);
a general lack of confidence in your own judgements and an
overreliance on the supervisor and, especially, his or her knowledge of
the subject.
Whichever postgraduate degree you do, you do need, however,
someone who knows what an MA, MPhil or PhD consists of and
who is at least halfway interested in your subject area and is
sensitive to how you want to approach it. For research degrees
you should, ideally, seek joint supervision.
Matters of time
Good time-management skills are of paramount importance in
research, and now is the moment to give these some thought. A
29
major problem for undergraduates contemplating their extended
essay is all the other work and assignments they need to submit
beforehand. Even so, you need to give some thought to your
dissertation a long time in advance of starting it. One of the main
reasons for this is that gathering information and data for an
extended essay takes far more time than writing it up. Another
DIY (do-it-yourself) analogy will help to illustrate this point. Let us
say that you have decided not to carpet but to paint the stairs in
your home. The preparation time needed to get the stairs ready
for painting – the wood needs to be sandpapered, the numerous
holes where previous carpet has been laid needs to be filled, then
sandpapered again – is considerably longer than the actual
painting. Research and writing it up is similar. Once you have
everything, you have read the relevant literature, marked up the
areas that are important, picked out the quotes, thought about the
essay/report/dissertation structure, you can begin putting pen to
paper or, rather, finger to keyboard. The moral of this story is that
you always need to start earlier than you think and that, in
general, an assignment, essay, research report and so on will, in
general, take longer than you think (you still need time after to
check for mistakes, check the references, check quotes, etc.).
It should be noted that not all people are of course the same.
Not everyone works in a rational manner, preparing material
methodically, gathering relevant data and materials well in
advance of deadlines. My own method of working, for example, is
not necessarily one to aim for: I generally do not get going until a
deadline is looming, which, given the advice above, is not always
sensible and can lead to unnecessary stress. If you are studying,
such an approach is potentially dangerous and ought to be
avoided, as it can lead to missed assignments or the handing in of
work below the standard at which you are capable. In my defence,
this style of work has developed beyond the limits placed on
students when studying. Nonetheless, a slow start will inevitably
translate into a mad rush towards the end of the period of study.
Try not to get into the habit of burning the midnight oil and waking
up at two o’clock in the afternoon. A good night’s sleep and a
regular work pattern will probably lead to better results in the end.
Remember also to leave time for life outside your studies, as
merely immersing yourself in your studies without coming up for
air could lead to a number of problems. First, you need time off
30
from direct studying, so that you can recover, absorb and reflect
on everything you have been thinking, reading and writing about.
Second, if you give up previous hobbies or socialising to fit in a
few hours of extra reading, the results may be counter-productive.
You need to feel ‘balanced’ within yourself, a state that will
obviously differ from person to person (see May 1997: 62–63).
This is, after all, what you will hopefully aspire to post-degree, so
you may as well start now.
Reasons for bad time management are manifold, for example
the perfectionist who refuses to write but continues to gather data
will eventually be buried under a pile of information with little or
nothing to show for it. The perfectionist would also not have had
the benefit of frequent exchanges with her dissertation tutor or
supervisor and thus runs the risk of ‘going off at a tangent’, that is,
digressing from her area of enquiry. Perfectionism may be a virtue
to some, but under conditions of tight time constraints, it could
prevent a person from actually achieving anything. Other reasons
for delays include distraction from the task in hand. This can come
in many forms, including having to work to make ends meet – a
particular concern for many part-time students holding down a job.
Once the research momentum is broken, it is very difficult to find
your way back in.
One thing that affects all students – and a number of academics
too – is procrastination. It may sound complicated, but it is rather
simple and can have a devastating impact on a person’s workrate. Basically, in the sense I mean it here, procrastination is a
technique people use to put off work. Instead of getting stuck into
a rough first draft of whatever it is they are writing, a procrastinator
will make another cup of coffee (or tea), or will undertake any
other task other than the one at hand. Procrastination should not
be confused with idling, which, if used in small doses and in
connection with bursts of productivity, can actually be very
effective. To prevent falling into the trap of avoiding work, the best
advice is to start immediately on the task at hand, drafting and
redrafting essays, chapters and so on. It is likely that once you
actually get into something, you will want to read more about it
and begin to find it interesting. You can even set yourself a target
at this stage, for example once you have written 500 words, you
can make that coffee (or tea), even including a biscuit for good
measure. Many people swear by the art of making lists of things to
31
do. I even had a colleague who had made this into an art form,
setting out elaborate schedules for each 30-minute section of the
day, filling out numerous boxes, stating do this, do that and so on.
Now, while I can see the benefits of a short list of things to do on
any given day, I have been around long enough to see that
excessive scheduling is a waste of time and a form of
procrastination in itself. The time it takes to fill out all the
comprehensive ‘time management’ plans would have been much
better spent actually doing something. What you do need to do is
list down what exactly do I need to do and when. So, if you have
four assignments due in the next three months, it is best to be
very clear on which one needs doing first, or is there any logic in,
say, reading around essay 1 as it overlaps slightly with your
dissertation? Aside from list making, you ought to step back and
ponder how you spend your day and consider whether you are
generally using your time judiciously. For example, it may be that
you sit in traffic for 90 minutes each day on the way to work or
university – is there a possibility to swap this journey with public
transport so that you can turn your commute into office time?
Such creative use of time can have a huge impact on what work
you can get done and ultimately on what you can achieve.
If you are considering undertaking postgraduate studies there
are a few things to think through. A full-time programme will
demand constant application and concentration for a longer period
of time, and students ought to ask themselves whether they are
willing to enter into this commitment before beginning their
studies. You could also consider a part-time programme, which
allows more time, and a slower pace, with which to familiarize
yourself with your topic – especially if you are returning to
studying. Generally, however, research is a gradual process of
accumulating knowledge over time, which brings with it a sense of
achievement and confidence that, in turn, makes the whole
process more enjoyable.
Familiarise yourself
Fear of the unknown, the esoteric and the complex only hinders
progress. By seeing the research process stripped bare, revealing
32
the factors that constitute good scholarship, you will be in a
position to overcome these fears.
There are a number of things that will make the research
process far more productive and enjoyable and allow you to ‘hit
the ground running’. These range from learning to assess the
manageability of your project, to getting to know what it is that
constitutes an undergraduate dissertation, MA, MPhil or PhD in
the first place. Taking some time at the beginning of your studies
to familiarise yourself with what lies before you will save time in
the long run: the ‘hares’ who throw themselves into writing their
dissertations or theses with little consideration for university
regulations, the format or the word length are often overtaken by
the ‘tortoises’ who allowed themselves sufficient time to study the
research terrain before beginning. However, once you know these
formalities, you do need to make a start.
Surprisingly, many students do not have a clue what their
dissertation or thesis is supposed to consist of beyond the wordlimit and, perhaps, the intimidatory sentence in university
handbooks (for PhDs) calling for ‘works that contribute
substantially to human knowledge’. This sentence is enough to
put off the brightest student. The point here is that if you do not
know what constitutes the degree you are aiming for, you are not
going to be able to map out a plan of how to get there. Imagine
training for a race and not knowing the distance to be run. It is no
good being a good sprinter if the race turns out to be over ten
miles. Hence, you will need to familiarise yourself with what is
expected of you before you begin. By looking at past dissertations
or theses of previous students from your department – they are
usually all collected in the departments themselves or the main
university library (hard copy or online) – you can learn several
things. What is the average length? What is the ratio of empirical
material to the literature review and theoretical approach in your
particular department and topic area? Familiarise yourself with the
structure of the theses and, after a while, a pattern may emerge.
Here is a standard example which will assist in highlighting
specific components of research (however, bear in mind that this
is only one model of research and it should not be considered as
fixed):
1. Introduction
33
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
literature review
methodology
case study(ies)/empirical section
evaluation
conclusion
appendices and bibliography.
This example is certainly valid for many standard social-science
dissertations and theses. In the humanities, however, the stages
highlighted above may be less pronounced, for example, there
may not be an explicit ‘methodology’ section. You will, however,
have a beginning and an end. You must also connect your work
with a wider literature (no. 2 above) and your project will exhibit,
perhaps implicitly, a methodology (no. 3) and a case study or
subject (no. 4). You will also have to evalu-ate and sum up your
work. The difference is that, in the social sciences, the above
sections are more likely to be clearly distinguishable from one
another. The simple advice here is that you should acquaint
yourself with the task ahead. By having a rough idea of what you
are aiming at, you manage to dispel many myths and anxi-eties
and you can already begin to have a mental picture of the logic of
research. By breaking down your project into broad parts, as in
the example above, you can begin to get a feel of what it
comprises.
Once you have familiarised yourself with dissertations and
theses in your department and university, the best advice is to
consider the format and presentation of your own work in this
light. Usually, the university library or your department will have
instructions on how to present your work, including page set-up
(size of margins), font size, how to use footnotes and references
and word-length (check whether this includes or excludes
appendices, tables, diagrams, bibliography and footnotes). Look
at this before you start any writing, for if you set up your project
and your computer in the format and style (point size, paragraph,
page set-up, etc.) stipulated in your department’s or university’s
regulations, you can use this for all subsequent work on your
project and you will save yourself no end of trouble when you
come to put together its constituent parts. Setting out the format
early does not, however, mean that the first sections or ideas you
34
put down on paper are fixed. On the contrary, you will need to go
over and redraft sections and chapters several times before they
are actually finished.
Summary
The opening chapter offers you some rudimentary advice on
what to think about prior to commencing your studies. In
particular, I have highlighted the following:
The nature of, and difference between, an undergraduate
dissertation, a Master’s and a doctorate.
The need to learn the specific ‘language’ of research and
why this is important at this early stage.
The need to reflect on the type of degree you wish to
undertake.
The need to consider carefully, as far as it is possible
given financial constraints, the place where you choose to
study.
The need to develop a regular working pattern to achieve
the best results.
The need to find out exactly what it is you are supposed to
do by familiarising yourself as soon as possible with
dissertations and theses at your chosen institution (look
up previous examples of your degree).
Further reading
Phillips, E. M. and Pugh, D. S. (eds) (2010) How to Get a PhD: A Handbook for
Students and Their Supervisors, 5th edn, Buckingham: Open University
Press.
Ragin, C. C. and Amoroso, L. M. (2010) Constructing Social Research: The
Unity and Diversity of Method, 2nd edn, Newbury Park, CA: Pine Forge
Press.
Wisker, G. (2007) The Postgraduate Research Handbook: Succeed with Your
MA, MPhil, EdD and PhD, 2nd edn, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan,
chap. 1.
35
2 The ‘Nuts and Bolts’ of
Research
This chapter introduces:
The key tools used in research: theory, model, typology, ideal type,
paradigm and concept
A discussion on the abuse of concepts
The key terms used in research: methods and methodology
In this chapter I set out to ‘demystify’ the research process by
introducing and explaining the generic meanings of the key tools
and terms used in research across the human sciences. Naturally,
I have been very selective in the choice of tools and terms
included; however, most students will come across them in their
studies. You should look upon them as the ‘scaffolding’ around
which the language of research is built. Now, this may strike you
as an exercise akin to watch-ing paint dry, yet, as I highlighted in
the previous chapter, if you learn the ‘language’ of research, you
are far more likely to produce a clear and precise piece of work.
The tools and terms discussed in this chapter are often
understood wrongly, used indiscriminately and employed
interchangeably. The result is confusion within disciplines and a
lack of dialogue between academics within those disciplines.
The tools of research
It is my contention that while discipline-specific terms and
concepts exist and have their uses (e.g. ‘supply and demand’ in
economics; ‘policy transfer’ in political science; ‘social
stratification’ in sociology, etc.), generic research terms and
concepts have the same fundamental meaning in whatever
36
discipline they are used. This holds true for all the tools I shall
introduce except the concept of ‘theory’. While the tools below
may have a generic meaning that can travel across disciplines,
‘theory’ is less easy to pin down. This is due to the role theory
plays in social research, a role complicated by the fact that it is
utilised for different purposes by different academic perspectives,
working in different philosophical traditions (see Chapter 5). For
this reason I shall not include a discussion of theory here, but
rather do so in Chapter 6 which is devoted entirely to
understanding theory and its role in research.
A good way to introduce key concepts used in research is to
suggest a continuum of research tools that have as their intention
‘explaining’ social phenomena at one end and ‘describing’ social
phenomena at the other (Figure 2.1). This is, of course, an
oversimplification for the purpose of understanding. Along this
continuum it is possible to place the tools in question (they are:
theory, model, typology, ideal type, paradigm and concept).
Figure 2.1 Key tools used in research
In general terms, the continuum in Figure 2.1 can be
understood as a range of tools employed in social research for
different purposes. As with all the broad cate-gorisations made
throughout this book, the continuum is a rough guide and not a
precise description. I have listed the research tools in order of
their ability to explain social phenomena. All these tools can be
looked upon as classificatory devices; that is, they help us make
sense of, categorise, understand and explain diverse social
phenomena. Theory is the most complex tool used in social
research and concepts are the least complex, although this is not
to suggest that some concepts or ‘concept clusters’ (i.e. more
than one concept constituting a phrase, for example ‘conditional
loyalty’ – see below for more on this) cannot be made to
accommodate complex issues. An ‘explanation’ is not to be
understood as being better or more significant than a ‘description’
of an event. The point is that different academic disciplines have
different purposes and aims: scholars undertaking historical
37
studies in general do not employ a specific ‘theory’ or ‘model’, but
would not be averse to employing a ‘typology’, ‘ideal type’ or set of
‘concepts’ to describe and attempt to understand particular
events. Many historians and numerous other scholars in different
disciplines who maintain that they simply ‘get on with the job of
research’ and leave ‘theorising’ to methodologists, are, ironically,
making theoretical claims about the status and nature of
knowledge (on historians, see Fulbrook 2002). As I shall show, all
research is underpinned by meta-theoretical assumptions (see
Chapters 4 and 5 for a deeper discussion of this). On the other
hand, many political scientists and economists would want to
‘explain’ or even attempt to ‘predict’ future events or actors’
behaviour by adopting and using models and theories.
Describing versus explaining
There is a lot of confusion around ‘describing’ and ‘explaining’ in
research. Most descriptions of social phenomena attempt to
explain something, just as most explanations need to describe
what it is they seek to explain. The problem arises in work – be it
an essay, dissertation or report – that simply sets out to describe a
problem with no attempt at understanding the ‘why’ behind the
process. A general rule of thumb is, does your essay, thesis,
research report etc. answer the question of ‘so what’? I could
describe the key components of a democracy – the rule of law,
political parties that can be voted in or out by popular vote, free
press and so on – but this would not tell us how this system works
or why it is deemed more just than, say, a dictatorship. By
describing in detail how certain aspects of a dictatorship work to
curtail the rights of individuals (see below for an ideal type of
dictatorships), and how individuals react to and interact with the
institutions of a dictatorship, I would have gone some way to
explain why ‘democracy’ may be preferable (for citizens anyway)
and how the dictatorial system functions. Detailed explanations of
phenomena in their social context are often termed ‘thick
description’, a phrase coined by Geertz in 1973. Geertz’s paper
on Balinese cock-fighting is considered an exemplary case of
thick description and is often used in methods training. It is worth
reading to grasp the idea of how such detailed descriptions can
lead to a fuller understanding of the subject under study.
38
The following section runs through the terms on the continuum
introduced in Figure 2.1, giving their root definitions and examples
of how they are used in research.
Model, typology and ideal type
Model
A model is a representation of something, in the way that a model
aeroplane is a replica of an actual aeroplane. A model can be
both a descriptive and an exploratory device. A road map and a
wiring diagram are good examples of descriptive models
(Walliman 2011: 205), with the former selecting key characteristics
or features of how the land lies and the latter depicting exactly
where the live wires are. The accuracy of a wiring diagram can be
a case of life and death; it is also important when fitting a new
kitchen that requires drilling into a wall. In social research, on the
other hand, models are less accurate and this inaccuracy is rarely
so dangerous. Some academics attempt to represent reality by a
series of boxes and arrows which depict and attempt to make
explicit significant relationships between specific aspects of the
model; thus a model ‘enables the formulation of empirically
testable propositions regarding the nature of these relationships’
(Frankfort-Nachmias and Nachmias 1992: 44). A significant
number of academics in political science, and especially
economics, swear by the use of modelling as a way of ensuring
rigorous research. Models can help us ‘predict’ human actions, for
example how people are likely to vote. Such assumptions about
the ability of social research to ‘explain’ human behaviour are
usually linked to the research tradition of ‘positivism’ and those
academics operating within it (see Chapter 5 for a further
discussion of this and other research traditions). A number of
scholars, as I shall show, share neither the assumptions made by
positivists (and the language they employ) nor the modelling
method used to study human behaviour. It is less important
whether you use a model in your work, but more what you believe
your model can tell us about social reality.
Box 1 What does a model do?
39
A model is:
an abstraction from reality that serves the purpose of
ordering and simplifying our view of reality while still
representing its essential characteristics … A model, then,
is a representation of reality; it delineates certain aspects of
the real world as being relevant to the problem under
investigation, it makes explicit the significant relationships
among the aspects, and it enables the formulation of
empirically testable propositions regarding the nature of
these relationships.
(Frankfort-Nachmias and Nachmias 1992: 44)
A model, like theory, is an abstraction of reality, and can be a
good way of visualising some of the relationships between
concepts. Hypotheses are often depicted using models (i.e. boxes
and arrows). The boxes and arrows themselves do not mean
anything, except that they depict, in this case, the effect of one
variable (let us say a person’s dietary intake) on another (let us
take level of fitness). If this relationship between two variables is
written in text, the reader has to imagine it in his or her mind. By
using a model, however, the reader receives an abstract picture of
the relationship. This becomes more important when you add a
list of other factors that may influence a person’s level of fitness,
for example housing, upbringing, jogs around the block, weight
and so on. All these influences can be schematically laid down to
assist our thought processes. You are more likely to come up with
other relationships, causal or otherwise, by using a model than if
you attempt to store this information in your head.
I think you should avoid conflating the term ‘model’ with
‘research paradigm or tradition’ and ‘research perspective’, as
David Silverman does (2017: 112). For example, he cites
‘positivism’ as a ‘model’ in social research. To be more precise
and less confusing, it is a ‘research paradigm’ (see Chapters 5
and 6 for an explanation of ‘research paradigm’). By contrast, a
model is a representation of reality imposed on raw data so as to
draw out possible relationships among variables.
40
Typology
Typologies – and, in this rare case, we can use this term
interchangeably with ‘taxonomies’ – are similar systems of
classification to ideal types. They consist of ‘a system of
categories constructed to fit empirical observations so that
relationships among categories can be described’ (FrankfortNachmias and Nachmias 1992: 40). These devices can be seen
as loose frameworks within which to organise and systematise our
observations. Typologies do not provide us with explanations;
rather they describe empirical phenomena by fitting them into a
set of categories. What they do help researchers with is the
organisation of a wide range of diverse facts that can be
structured into logical, but sometimes arbitrary, categories, which
facilitates understanding of complex matters. Bailey sums it up
thus:
One of the chief merits of a typology is parsimony … A well
constructed typology can work miracles in bringing order out
of chaos. It can transform the overwhelming complexity of an
apparent eclectic congeries of numerous apparently diverse
cases into a well ordered set of a few rather homogenous
types.
cited in Neuman (2000: 44)
In comparative politics, the typology has a slightly different role.
Built on the earliest classification scheme proposed by Aristotle
(see Box 2), it serves to ‘reduce the complexity of the world by
seeking out those qualities that countries share and those that
they do not share’ (Landman 2002: 5).
Box 2 Aristotle’s typology of regime types
Formally speaking, the construction of typologies is the
attempt to develop a single variable through the interaction
of two or more further variables. And this is exactly what
Aristotle did in his attempt to classify regime types: by
taking the ‘form’ of rule (either ‘good’ or ‘corrupt’) (variable
1) and factoring in the different number of rulers making up
41
the decision-making body (either ‘one’, ‘few’ or ‘many’)
(variable 2), Aristotle came up with six different types of
regime (variable 3): monarchy, aristocracy and polity (the
‘good’ regime types) and tyranny, oligarchy and democracy
(the ‘corrupt’ regime types).
For more on this, see Heywood (2002: 27–28).
In the more modern day, analyses are usually statistical in
nature and a typology can be seen as an initial stage on the way
to theory-building, and for this reason I have placed this tool
before ideal types, which, as we shall see, are similar
classificatory tools.
Ideal type
The ideal type is, like theory, a construct that represents an
intellectual description of a phenomenon in its abstract form and,
like typologies (taxonomies), does not provide us with
explanations. It should not be understood as an ‘ideal’ standard ‘in
the sense of being perfect, but rather that it is “ideal” in the sense
of being an intellectual construct that may never exist in the real
world’ (Peters 1998: 105). This confusion has arisen to a great
extent because of the translation from the German (Blaikie 2009).
Attributed to the founder of modern sociology, Max Weber, who
was greatly influenced by economic modelling in his day (Ringer
1997: 110–21; Weber 1949: 89–90), an ideal type is a
conceptualisation, such as, for example, the ‘working class’, with
which the researcher can compare reality on the ground (empirical
evidence). Ideal types are thus hypothetical constructs formed by
emphasising aspects of behaviour and institutions which are
(generally) empirically observable. These constructs isolate ‘those
variables central to the study of a problem, putting aside those
aspects of the reality which seem ines-sential to the analysis’
(Engerman 2000: 258). An ideal type does not, however, posit
relationships among variables. Box 3 gives an abridged version of
the classic example of an ideal type: Friedrich and Brzezinski’s
categorisation of a totalitarian regime.
42
Box 3 Ideal type of ‘totalitarianism’ by
Friedrich and Brzezinski ([1956] 1965)
In this ideal type, a totalitarian dictatorship exhibits the following
characteristics:
1. An elaborate ideology, consisting of an official body of
doctrine covering all vital aspects of man’s existence to
which everyone living in that society is supposed to adhere.
2. A single mass party typically led by one man, the ‘dictator,’
and consisting of a relatively small percentage of the total
population (up to 10 per cent) of men and women.
3. A system of terror, whether physical or psychic, effected
through party and secret-police control, supporting but also
supervising the party for its leaders.
4. A technologically conditioned, near-complete monopoly of
control, in the hands of the party and of the government, of
all the means of effective mass communication.
5. A similarly technologically conditioned, near-complete
monopoly of the effective use of all weapons of armed
combat.
6. A central control and direction of the entire economy
through the bureaucratic coordination of formerly
independent corporate entities.
(Friedrich and Brzezinski [1956] 1965: 21–22)
You can see that this is only a yardstick or heuristic tool for
analysis, as this particular ideal type has been heavily criticised
for its ideological baggage, that is, it comes from a particular
ideological angle, and for the way it was employed during the Cold
War (see Ross and Grix 2002). An example of the use of ideal
types in research would be the East German sports system, which
is generally looked upon as the ‘template’ of a successful sports
model (without the systematic application of drugs, obviously).
Now, you could use this ideal type (emphasis on coaching, sports
science, specialist sports training schools, early talent identifica-
43
tion, etc.) to hold up to other sports models, for example the UK or
Canada, to see the extent to which they differ or are similar. Such
comparisons are helpful when looking at best practice or ideas of
policy transfer. Another sporting example is the ‘ingredients’ that
make up an Olympian – that is, what does it take to reach the
level of an Olympian? Is there a set of factors that come together
to ensure athletes reach this level? Aside from the obvious traits
of determination, resilience, mental strength and so on, some of
my recent research is probing whether we can come up with an
ideal type of what makes an Olympian by drawing on the social
context of an athlete’s Olympic journey: Does their social
economic background play a role? Are/were their parents sporty?
What was their experience at school with sport? Did someone
encourage them/take an interest in their sporting ability at a key
stage of their development? Coupled with emerging themes from
30 sporting life history interviews with GB Olympians (see Chapter
7 for more on this), the idea is to arrive at an ideal type of these
key factors. The ideal type could then be applied to other nations
and their Olympians to see if the key factors are transnational or
national specific (Grix et al. 2018).
Importantly, however, and as Weber himself suggested, the
‘ideal typical concept will help develop our skill in imputation in
research: it is no “hypothesis” but it offers guidance to the
construction of hypotheses’ (Weber 1949: 90, emphasis in
original).
Box 4 Weber’s ideal type
According to Weber, an ideal type:
is not a description of reality but it aims to give
unambiguous means of expression to such a description …
An ideal type is formed by the one-sided accentuation of
one or more points of view and by the synthesis of a great
many diffuse, discrete, more or less present and
occasionally absent concrete individual phenomena, which
are arranged according to those one-sidedly emphasized
viewpoints into a unified analytical construct. In its
44
conceptual purity, this mental construct cannot be found
empirically anywhere in reality.
(Weber 1949: 90)
If you thought that a little difficult, you should try the original
German! Nonetheless, the ‘one-sided’ emphasis on specific
characteristics in institutions and people is something Weber has
become well known for; for example, his ideal types of
‘bureaucracy’ and ‘charisma’ have enjoyed a wide currency
among academics.
Paradigm
There are three ways in which the term ‘paradigm’ is used in the
human sciences. The first draws directly on Thomas Kuhn, who
depicts a paradigm as an institution-alisation of intellectual activity
which, in effect, socialises students into their respective scientific
community. Kuhn explains:
By choosing [the term paradigm], I mean to suggest that
some accepted examples of actual scientific practice –
examples which include law, theory, application, and
instrumentation together – provide models from which spring
particular coherent traditions of scientific research … The
study of paradigms … is what mainly prepares the student for
membership in the particular scientific community with which
he will later practice. Because he there joins men who
learned the bases of their field from the same concrete
models, his subsequent practice will seldom evoke overt
disagreement over fundamentals.
(1996: 10–11)
In the human sciences, the term has come to mean, or is not
dissimilar to, ‘an established academic approach’ in which
academics use a common terminology, common theories based
on agreed paradigmatic assumptions and agreed methods and
practices (see Rosamond 2000: 192). Furthermore, paradigms
are often overtaken, replaced or placed alongside other
paradigms, leading to what is commonly called a ‘paradigm shift’.
45
In academic disciplines, ‘dominant’ paradigms exist and are often
challenged. However, we are not talking about the same kind of
‘paradigm’ that dominated the natural sciences, as the human
sciences are characterised by the plurality of theories that coexist
in the many disciplines that make them up (see Dogan 2000: 104–
05).
Box 5 Example of a ‘paradigm’ shift
In macroeconomics the neo-classical paradigm (or ‘school of
thought’) and its world view has, since the late 1960s/early
1970s, taken over as the dominant approach from its
predecessor, Keynesianism. Both of these paradigms are based
on specific ontological and epistemological assumptions which
are reflected in the emphasis and priority they place on specific
factors, although there is, of course, limited variation on these
matters within both paradigms among protagonists. While neoclassical economists advocate the virtues of an unfettered
market and a small role for the state, Keynesian approaches
usually call for a more active role of the state in stimulating the
economy. Paradoxically, following the worst financial crisis (the
so-called ‘credit crunch’) the world has seen in around 70 years,
the ‘neo-classical’ paradigm on which the finance system was
based has not been rejected. Instead, a neo-classical model of
economic governance with some elements of the Keynesian
model (for example, state intervention to prop up banks) has
emerged.
Technically, the ‘paradigm shift’ example above is really talking
about ‘perspectives’ within the study of economics (see Chapter 5
for more on this). The second way in which ‘paradigm’ is used in
research is when students and researchers describe crude and
broad groupings of certain approaches to the study of a specific
topic – for example, on the collapse of communism, the academic
literature can be broken down into ‘top-down’ and ‘bottom-up’
research paradigms. The former concerns itself with, inter alia,
power-wielding elites, the latter with the role of citizens in the
regimes’ maintenance and collapse. Alternatively, you may
46
separate out those approaches which focus on structural
explanations of an event and those that focus more on agents
(see below for the ‘structure–agency problem’). This is a general
method of broad categorisation of roughly cognate approaches to
specific phenomena – it has little to do with the Kuhnian sense of
paradigm in the natural sciences. What it does do is allow you to
focus and structure your observa-tions; otherwise, you will end up
writing an interesting story without being able to begin to
differentiate, at least between the way in which people approach a
specific topic.
Finally, the term ‘paradigm’ is used to describe broad
approaches to research, for example the ‘positivist’ or
‘interpretivist’ paradigms, within which many academic
perspectives draw on similar ontological and epistemological
roots. This is how I have used the term in Chapter 5 where I
outline key academic perspectives within broad research
paradigms (or ‘traditions’).
Box 6 What’s in a paradigm?
You need to differentiate between the following three concepts:
1. paradigm: this should be reserved for broad definitions, for
example the ‘positivist’ paradigm of research (within which
there will be vast differences between proponents; see
Chapter 5);
2. discipline: this usually applies to ‘traditional’ academic
disciplines such as economics, history, political science,
etc. (disciplines also contain a multitude of subdisciplines
and are not paradigms themselves);
3. perspective: an academic perspective pertains to (1)
certain approaches within a discipline, for example, new
institutionalism and rational choice in political science, and
(2) approaches that transcend narrow academic disciplines,
for example a feminist or post-modern perspective.
Concepts
47
Concepts are the building blocks of theory, hypotheses,
explanation, description and prediction. A concept can be seen as
an idea, or notion, expressed and compressed into one or more
words. Concepts represent the least complex stage on our
continuum of abstraction. That is not to say that concepts cannot
be extremely complex. A concept carries with it a certain
perspective and certain built-in assumptions, or ways of looking at
empirical phenomena (Neuman 2000: 44), and can be seen as an
agreed-upon term among scholars. The agreement, however, is
only on the term’s existence and not its meaning, as much
scholarly debate revolves around precisely this point. A concept is
an abstraction of empirical phenomena based on certain
assumptions, and can be used as a type of shorthand in
explanation. For example, the concept ‘book’ ‘assumes a system
of writing, people who can read, and the existence of paper.
Without such assumptions, the idea of book makes little sense’
(Neuman 2000: 44).
Box 7 Take care with concepts: All kinds of
‘trust’
The concepts you use in your work usually have referents in the
empirical world, so they need to be well defined. If you are
interested in, say, gauging the level of trust in a specific
community, town or country, you would need to be fairly precise
about what type of trust you are seeking to uncover. Trust is a
multifaceted concept that, for clarity, is best divided into several
subgroups. There are evidently a variety of types of trust that
need to be distinguished in order to lend them any
operationalisability. For example, interpersonal trust is clearly
different from trust in institutions – or perhaps, more precisely,
the actors who populate them. Furthermore, the creation of
‘generalised trust’, trust beyond the individual and group
members and extended to strangers, is again different, but not
necessarily divorced, from the above two varieties. ‘Horizontal’
trust between citizens is different from trust between elites and
citizens (Grix 2001b: 194–96).
48
Let us consider the concept cluster ‘conditional loyalty’, which I
used in my own research to capture the relationship between the
majority of citizens in the GDR (German Democratic Republic)
and the GDR regime. This simple concept was used to suggest
that the majority of citizens did not undertake any regimethreatening actions as long as certain ‘conditions’ were met. My
aim was to trace the decline in this ‘loyalty’ over time and to give
reasons for this, all as a way of contributing to an explanation of
the regime’s collapse (Grix 2000). By developing Albert O.
Hirschman’s well-known model (see below for more on this), I was
able to show how ‘loyalty’ of citizens to the regime was only
‘conditional’ on subsidised consumption and by being afforded
‘niches’ in the dictatorship within which to live reasonably. This
brief example reveals the work a single conceptual phrase can be
made to do and how much information can be packed into it. The
key is to be as precise as possible about what you mean by
‘conditional’, what exactly the conditions are and, of course, what
the social, economic and political contexts are in which the action
you describe is taking place. Operationalising concepts, that is,
translating them into measurable variables for data collection, is
one of the hardest jobs in research.
The abuse of concepts
Researchers must take care not to employ wrongly contextdependent concepts that have been developed at a specific point
in time to describe specific phenomena. This can happen if an
‘original’ concept is referred to by an author, but without her
actually revisiting the original texts to substantiate her claims and,
importantly, without taking into consideration the changes that
may have taken place in the world since the concept was
introduced.
Examples abound where concepts and terms have been
rendered hollow or extremely hard to define due to this overuse
and abuse. Take, for example, the concepts ‘stakeholder’ and
Albert O. Hirschman’s schema ‘Exit, Voice and Loyalty’ which
have, to a certain extent, suffered this fate (for the original theory,
see Hirschman 1970; for a brief overview, see Grix 2000: 18–22).
The use of ‘stakeholder’ in Britain, which was popularised by Will
Hutton (1996, 1999) and the Labour Party, came to mean, among
49
other things, giving a person a stake in society. The term was
used so frequently, and in so many different situations, that its
original meaning is now somewhat obscured. Albert Hirschman’s
‘Exit, Voice and Loyalty’ scheme, which has been used in as wide
a range of settings as social capital, was reduced simply to ‘Exit’
and ‘Voice’ in numerous explanations of the collapse of the GDR.
The original schema, presented by Hirschman in 1970, is hardly
ever referred to, and the third pillar of the scheme, loyalty, is
hardly discussed at all (see Grix 2000: 21–22).
Another danger is for concepts to be diluted into a catch-all term
like ‘civil society’, which is impossible to pin down, but regarded as
somehow signalling something desirable. The concept of civil
society is an interesting one, as it experienced something of a
renaissance during the peaceful revolutions of 1989 that marked
the beginning of the end of communism. However, the concept
has been associated mainly with Western capitalist societies, and
simply extending the term to countries transforming from years of
dictatorship to some form of democracy is not without its
problems. Moreover, it can come across as prescriptive if Western
countries state that they will not assist these fledgling
democracies until they have a functioning civil society, presumably
based on the Western model. This becomes particularly
problematic when one considers the differences between
countries, their cultures and their citizens who have had to live
under dictatorial conditions. How can concepts developed in one
cultural, political, economic, social and psychological context
capture the complexities of, and be transferred to, another?
The point here is not to suggest that all concepts are contextspecific and therefore of not much use outside the region or
country for which they were developed. Far from it – the fact that it
can transcend boundaries is the mark of a good concept and
theory. The point is, however, to make you aware of the danger of
not considering the origins of a concept (i.e. the context in which it
has evolved) and the changes in society since the original concept
was introduced. Latching onto catchy concepts without returning
to their origins or understanding the context in which they were
constructed is what I term concept ‘bandwagoning’ and should be
avoided at all costs.
Key terms in research
50
The following section continues with the clarification of the
language of research by turning to the two key terms that are
often misunderstood, taken as given – and thus never properly
explained – and misused in research.
Methods
At the root of all research lies what the ancient Greeks termed
methodos. On the one hand, the term means ‘the path towards
knowledge’, and, on the other, ‘reflections on the quest for
knowledge-gathering’. Many of the central concerns of research
have their roots firmly in the work of ancient Greek philosophers.
Witness, for example, the manner in which Socrates, Plato and
Aristotle employed classificatory systems or typologies of states,
types of rule and so on, to make sense of the social phenomena
surrounding them.
I follow Norman Blaikie’s (2009) more modern definition of
methods and methodology, two words that are often confused,
used interchangeably and generally misunderstood (see also
Blaxter et al. 1997: 59). The former is easier to explain and
understand than the latter. Research methods, quite simply, can
be seen as the techniques or ‘procedures and activities for
selecting, collecting, organizing and analysing data’ (Blaikie 2009:
8). The method(s) chosen for a research project are inextricably
linked to the research questions posed and to the sources of
data collected.
Research methods come in all shapes and sizes, ranging from
in-depth interviews, statistical inference, discourse analysis and
archival research of historical documents to participant
observation (see Chapter 7 for a brief overview of the most
common types of method). The choice of methods will be
influenced by ontological and epistemological assumptions and, of
course, the questions you are asking, and the type of project you
are undertaking, for example either researching individuals’
attitudes or institutional change. However, methods themselves
should be seen as free from ontological and epistemological
assumptions, and the choice of which to use should be guided by
your research questions.
51
Box 8 The link between research questions,
methods and sources
If I wish to understand how the policy on a specific issue was
made in the European Commission, I would have to think of a
way of obtaining information with which to answer this question.
One method could be to speak to those who implement policy,
or, probably better still, those people who work for key decisionmakers in the Commission. In interviews (structured, semistructured or unstructured – see Chapter 7) with key people, I
would have to pose questions in such a way as to shed light on
the specific area of policymaking in which I was interested. The
interviewees may, if I am lucky, point me to specific documents
or further discussion partners. Thus, my original question has
led me to:
the interview technique (a research method);
interview transcripts (raw data derived from interviews);
(possibly) key documents as source material to analyse
(sources of information).
Therefore a research question (RQ) should lead to our method
(M) and sources (S) (RQ M S). The RQs we ask are guided
by our ontological and epistemological positions (see Chapter
4).
In the minds of many researchers, certain methods are
inextricably bound up with certain ontological and epistemological
assumptions, for example try asking an enthusiastic rationalchoice theorist what she thinks of discourse analysis. The
important thing to note here is that it is the researcher who
employs a particular method in a particular way, thereby
associating it with a specific set of ontological assumptions. It is
not the method that approaches scholarship with pre-existing
baggage, but rather the researcher. However, within the academic
community, some methods are looked upon and associated with
‘good research’, while others are not. Remember that good
52
scholarship is not just the result of a specific method, but the
result of how you employ, cross-check, collate and analyse the
data that methods assist you in collecting. Your work should be
judged on how its constituent parts logically link together, not by
which methods you use.
An advanced undergraduate essay, dissertation or doctoral
thesis without any method, however loosely defined, is an outand-out contradiction. In research, methods have two principal
functions:
1. They offer the researcher a way of gathering information or
gaining insight into a particular issue.
2. They enable another researcher to re-enact the first’s
endeavours by emulating the methods employed.
The former is essential for concentrating and narrowing our line of
enquiry when analysing a particular topic. The latter is essential in
validating research. Some methods – for example, those used in
narrative research – may not be as useful for validating research.
If I undertake life histories of Olympians, for example, it may be
that when interviewed a decade later, the interviewees offer a
different set of stories to reconstruct their (athletic) past.
Methods can be used in either quantitative research, which is
concerned predominantly with quantity and quantifying, or
qualitative research, which is concerned with interpreting the
subjective experiences, that is, the perspectives, of the individuals
being studied (see Chapter 7 for further discussion of methods).
Methodology
Methodology is concerned with the logic of scientific enquiry; in
particular with investigating the potentialities and limitations of
particular techniques or procedures. The term pertains to the
science and study of methods and the assumptions about the
ways in which knowledge is produced. The difficulty in
understanding just what the term ‘methodology’ means has not
been helped by the fact that it is used interchangeably with
‘research methods’ and is often considered, mistakenly, to be
close in meaning to ‘epistemology’, ‘approach’ and even
‘paradigm’. Epistemology should be looked upon as an
53
overarching philosophical term concerned with the origin, nature
and limits of human knowledge, and the knowledge-gathering
process itself. A project’s methodology, on the other hand, is
concerned with the discussion of how a particular piece of
research should be undertaken and so can best be understood as
the critical study of research methods and their use. The term
refers to the choice of research strategy taken by a particular
scholar – as opposed to alternative research strategies. The
methodology section of a Master’s or doctoral thesis, which is,
especially in political science, often replaced with a section on
‘ontology and epistemology’, has come to mean ‘the difficult bit’
among students, through which they have to wade before being
allowed to go off ‘in the field’ and enjoy themselves. A student’s
methodology is driven by certain ontological and epistemological
assumptions and consists of research questions or hypotheses, a
conceptual approach to a topic, the methods to be used in the
study – and their justification – and, consequently, the data
sources. All these components are inextricably linked to one
another in a logical manner. The methodology section of a
dissertation or thesis embraces, then, the key components: it sets
out how you have gone about acquiring the answers to your
research questions and/or hypotheses; a discussion of the
conceptual approach being adopted, including the research
paradigm from which it draws (see Chapter 5); the research
methods to be used, their limitations and potential and, finally, the
sources to be consulted. This is usually the section that can take
the most time – especially in postgraduate degrees – as students
attempt to place their work among the canon of existing works on
their topic, drawing on insights from wide-ranging literature
reviews, and developing an ‘innovative’ angle on events or making
an intervention in the relevant, current academic literature.
Summary
This chapter has been concerned with the pre-research stage,
outlining some of the most important tools and terms you
should know before you begin your research. The major point I
have attempted to get across is that familiarity with the tools
54
and terminology of research is essential if you are to
successfully complete a high-quality, precise piece of work. Of
equal importance is the ability of the researcher to pick and
choose which conceptual tools to use for her particular project.
If you do not know or understand what is on offer, you are
unlikely to make the best choice. To sum up the advice of this
chapter:
Take time to learn the ‘tools of the trade’ (use the glossary
at the end of this book).
Familiarise yourself with the central concepts you are
likely to come across in research.
Reflect on the concepts you are using in your research.
Consider their origins and whether they are suitable for
the context in which you wish to employ and defend their
use. Avoid at all costs the ‘abuse of concepts’ outlined
above.
Remain aware of the relationship between your research
question(s) and the methods and the sources you use.
Essential reading
Blaikie, N. (2009) Designing Social Research, 2nd edn, Cambridge: Polity
Press, chap. 1.
Kuhn, T. S. (1996) The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, Chicago, IL:
University of Chicago Press.
Nachmias, C. and Nachmias, D. (1992) Research Methods in the Social
Sciences, 4th edn, London: Edward Arnold.
Further reading
Geertz, C. (1973) The Interpretation of Cultures, New York: Basic Books.
Gerring, J. (2001) Social Science Methodology: A Criterial Framework,
Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, chaps. 1 and 2.
King, G., Keohane, O. and Verba, S. (1994) Designing Social Inquiry: Scientific
Inference in Qualitative Research, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press.
55
3
Getting Started in
Research
This chapter introduces:
The language used when getting started in research, including the allimportant literature review, research question and hypothesis-building
The key terms and debates to consider when starting research: levels of
analysis, structure and agency and types of study
This chapter introduces the language of getting started in
research. It does so by describing the process by which you can
begin your research projects. There are various ways of deciding
on a topic of study and this chapter will offer exam- ples to help
you focus your initial thoughts. The most common of these, the
literature review, is given special attention, as everyone has heard
of it, but not everyone knows exactly what it is for, and all
dissertations or theses – and most research reports – will have to
engage with a body of existing scholarly work. By dissecting the
literature review and looking closely at its constituent parts, the
aim is to make clear its central purpose in research.
Closely interwoven with the literature review is the process of
devising research questions and hypotheses. The purpose of
arriving at a more precise research question is to give your study
some kind of order and to assist you in narrowing down your topic
to something that is manageable within the time y…