Unit III Article Critique

Ethnography is a qualitative research method that seeks to understand cultural phenomena that reflect the knowledge and meanings that guide the life of cultural groups within their own environment. While the origins of ethnography lie in the socio-cultural anthropology of the nineteenth century, it is now widely used in sociology, communications studies, educational and medical research, and history – subjects where the intention is to study people, ethnic groups and cultures. However, ethnography remains a contested and, in the view of Jordan and Yeomans (1995), an often loosely used term. Hammersley and Atkinson (2007: 1) see ethnography as

… a particular method or sets of methods. In its most characteristic form it involves the ethnographer participating, overtly or covertly, in people’s lives for an extended period of time, watching what happens, listening to what is said, asking questions.

For Willis and Trondman (2000: 5) it is

... a family of methods involving sustained social contact with agents, and richly writing up the encounter, respecting, recording, representing at least partly in its own terms, the irreducibility of human experience.

Ethnographers, then, as participant observers, look at and record people’s way of life and take an  emic  (folk or inside) and  etic  (analytic or outside) approach to describing communities and cultures. The research is carried out in natural settings and is sympathetic to those settings. Traditionally those involved in ethnographic research spend long periods of time in the place of study, and are able to produce thick written cultural descriptions that communicate the information found in the field, or, in the words of Fetterman (2010: 1), ‘a credible, rigorous and authentic story’. While in the past, ethnographers may have travelled to distant places to study ‘exotic’ tribes or groups, contemporary ethnography can concern itself with more mundane locations such as shopping malls, libraries, parks, workplaces, households, communities, cities and even information systems and cyberspace.

Ethnographic accounts seek to be both descriptive and interpretive. Description is important because a high level of detail is essential. Interpretation is equally important because the ethnographer must determine the significance of what s/he observes. Ethnographic research typically employs three kinds of data collection methods, namely observation, interviews and documents, often employing all three methods in a single study. These in turn produce three kinds of data: quotations, descriptions and excerpts of documents. The aim of ethnographic research is to produce narrative descriptions that help to tell ‘the story’ (Hammersley, 1990). Ethnographic methods can help in the development of constructs, themes or variables, but ethnography is also used to test theory. Indeed no study, ethnographic or otherwise, can be conducted without recourse to theory whether scholarly or personal (Fetterman, 2010).

Image 17.1 The old and the new – both are legitimate sites for ethnography

© iStock.com / Osmany Torres Martín

© iStock.com / Michael Könen

One of the key decisions at an early stage is the extent to which the researcher is going to be a participant in the study, which can vary from complete immersion alongside those being observed, or complete detachment (or at least an attempt at detachment) with the role of spectator. Participation helps the researcher to develop an insider’s perspective on what is happening. However, the researcher must also observe what is happening (whilst reflecting on her/his own involvement and biases). The key to ethnographic research, then, is skilfully combining the role of participant and observer.

The origins of ethnography

The origins of ethnography are often attributed to the pioneering fieldwork of Polish anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski. In his seminal work, The Argonauts of the Western Pacific, published in 1914, Malinowski devotes a whole section of the book to explaining the process of gathering data through meticulously documented observations and interviews. He explained that, to have a thorough understanding of a different culture, anthropologists must have daily contact with their informants and become immersed in the culture which they are studying. The goal, then, was to understand the ‘native’s point of view’. To achieve this, not only must the anthropologist collect data, but also there needs to be an emphasis on interpretation. The link between data collection and the writing of ethnographic monographs is meticulous field notes. According to Roldan (2002), Malinowski increased the validity of his ethnography by including in the text fieldwork data, information about the research process and theoretical assumptions.

Read: Ethnography & multinationals

Although its origins lie in the field of anthropology, ethnography was soon taken up by sociologists, a move pioneered by the Chicago School at the University of Chicago in the 1920s, 1930s and 1940s. The primary assumption for the Chicago School was that qualitative methodologies, especially those used in naturalistic observation (such as ethnography), were best suited for the study of urban, social phenomena. It was through the Chicago School that ethnography and symbolic interactionism became closely associated. The phrase ‘symbolic interactionism’ was first coined in 1937 by Blumer (1969), although the approach to social analysis is largely credited to the work of George Hubert Mead during his time at the University of Chicago. Blumer (1969) argued that, in essence, humans act towards things (including fellow humans) according to subjectively attributed meanings which are interpreted reflexively and subjectively. The combination of ethnography and symbolic interactionism led to the writing of several classic texts such as W.F. Whyte’s Street Corner Society (1943) and E. Goffman’s Asylums (1961). Ironically, the teaching of fieldwork methods at the University of Chicago was limited, with ways of organizing ethnographic research being largely acquired ‘on the hoof’ (Shaffir, 1999).

In recent years, ethnography has witnessed great diversification with different approaches being adopted, guided by different epistemological concerns and ethnographic practice, including long-term in-depth studies, through to condensed fieldwork, consultancy work or participation in political struggles (Atkinson and Hammersley, 1994). There has also been a growing application of ethnography beyond anthropology and sociology into applied fields such as education, health and social policy. Sometimes associated with these more applied forms of ethnography have been moves towards collaborative research, stemming not just from a desire for engagement with practice, but also from an epistemological concern that ethnography has privileged the researcher – as the implied Narrator – over the Other, the object of the ethnographer’s gaze. Hence, the accounts produced by researchers are viewed as constructions that reflect the presuppositions and the socio- historical conditions in which they were produced. Under the influence of various forms of antirealism such as constructivism (Guba, 1990) or post-structuralism (Denzin, 1990; Lather, 1991), claims for ethnographic accounts have become more sceptical. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, for example, a postmodern turn in anthropology challenged anthropologists to question their own assumptions and write more reflexively. An example here is auto-ethnography (Reed-Danahay, 1997), which has been encouraged by postmodern theory to draw out the narrative of participant observation and relationships in the field through personal stories (of the researcher) as a reliable mode of expressing findings from the field (Coffey, 1999) and as a credible, adjunct data source (Possick, 2009).

Anderson (1999: 456), however, is sceptical of what he terms the nihilist excesses of the postmodern turn, its hyper-reflexivity, and its ‘clever, self-absorbed and evasive writing’, serving to undermine empirical ethnographic work. He does, though, claim that some of its more positive insights will eventually be absorbed into what he calls analytic ethnography, an empirical approach linked to ethnomethodological traditions. He is also optimistic about the future of ethnography, pointing to the growth of ethnographic research in the 1990s, within a broader range of academic disciplines. Hence, it is possible, for the first time, to talk about educational ethnography, medical ethnography, policy-oriented ethnography and even performance ethnography. Watson (2011) points to the potential that ethnography can play in management studies, investigating ‘how things work’ in organizations. Denzin and Lincoln (1994), however, talk about the flowering of ethnographic ‘moments’ through which US social science has passed or is passing. Anderson (1999), though, sees this less as a succession of movements, but more of a diversification of ethnography. Indeed, ethnography remains a highly complex and contentious discursive field (Atkinson and Hammersley, 1994) at the ‘intersections of communication, culture and identity’ (Berry, 2011: 169).

Guidelines for fieldwork

It is fieldwork that is the most defining characteristic of ethnographic research (Fetterman, 2010). While classic ethnography could involve from six months to two years or more in the field, modern ethnography can involve studies where the researcher visits a site for, say, a two-week period every few months or so during a study lasting two or three years. Fieldwork involves an outsider angling for insider knowledge. Hence, fieldworkers ride the lines between and across multiple boundaries, with the result that the journey can be emotionally uncomfortable or in the words of Irwin (2006: 160) ‘exceedingly edgy’. Doing fieldwork involves a number of stages including deciding what field or context in which to conduct the research, getting access and gaining acceptance within the field, conducting the fieldwork itself and leaving the field (getting out) in as ethical and acceptable a way as possible.

Top Tip 17.1

If ethnographic studies can involve immersion in the field for long periods, even several years, you need to think carefully before you embark on this type of research. It might be appropriate, say, for someone undertaking research as part of their employment, or as part of a doctorate. Indeed, as we shall see in some of the case studies that follow, some have been implemented as part of a PhD. However, for those studying, say, at Master’s level the long periods required would normally rule out this kind of research undertaking.

Watch: Considering the ethnographic self

Selecting the field

The nature of the setting chosen for the study may be decided before the research problem has been fully resolved. In some studies, however, the collection of ethnographic data may itself help in the definition of the research problem. Data collection and analysis may also lead to the identification of new themes that require different and additional sites for study. Settings contain cases for study but the two are not necessarily synonymous. Hence, cases may be studied in a particular setting, but researchers may have to study aspects of a case across multiple settings (Hammersley and Atkinson, 2007). For example, a study might explore an entrepreneur’s start-up business, but might also want to explore other, more established businesses. How and why cases are chosen (sampled) will be determined by the kinds of criteria discussed in  Chapter 9 . So, given the qualitative and intensive nature of most ethnographic research, and the use of only a few sites, sampling design will be mostly based upon typical sites (Schneider, 2006a).

As Hammersley and Atkinson (2007) point out, sampling decisions must also be taken within cases, particularly in relation to time, people and context. For time sampling, it is obvious that the researcher cannot be in the field for 24 hours a day, so some choices have to be made in terms of when to enter the field. In a factory setting, for example, this could be sampling during day shifts, evening shifts and night shifts. Time phases are also an issue. Schneider (2006a) recommends that, for applied ethnographic studies (for example, studies that evaluate projects or programmes), observations should continue through at least one cycle related to the research problem. So, a study of the effects of government funding on agency programmes might observe the impact through a complete budget year. Sampling within a case (for example, a study within an organization) will also involve selecting among people, which could involve ensuring that different categories, based on gender, race, educational qualifications or social class, were all represented in the study. Within a setting, people may act differently according to the context. So, for example, within the setting of a university, students may act differently depending on whether they are attending a lecture, studying in the library or socializing with friends. Sampling design, then, will have to take this into account.

Gaining access

Central to gaining access to a site is the attitude of gatekeepers, who can help or hinder the research depending upon their views as to the validity of the research and its impact on the welfare of people they work with. Pankey-Videla (2012) comments that one of the main challenges confronting ethnographers is how to gain access to a research site, especially gaining informed consent (see next section and  Case Study 17.3 ). As Pankey-Videla (2012) points out, most companies do not want to deal with researchers as this takes up precious time. Thus, obtaining permission to study an organization often entails multiple rejections and prolonged negotiations. Duke (2002) supports this view, asserting that gaining access to sites is much easier when personal contacts can smooth the path and where the researcher is known to have some knowledge or experience of the area. Once inside an organization, researchers often feel vulnerable, fearing they might lose hard-fought access. Even once access has been negotiated, further informal gatekeepers also need to be approached before site members will fully participate in a study (Reeves, 2010).

It will certainly be easier to gain entry if the researcher has empathy with those being studied. This does not mean necessarily agreeing or disagreeing with them, but it does mean avoiding the adoption of judgemental attitudes. Patton (2014) suggests that a reciprocity model of gaining entry is valuable, where both researcher and participants come to see mutual advantages emerging from the observational process. This, of course, may be a pious hope. As Hall (2000) points out, especially when working with disadvantaged groups (for example, low-paid immigrant workers), an outsider’s curiosity might be construed as objectionable and patronizing – the first few weeks of fieldwork can sometimes be a miserable experience for the researcher.

The issue of gender may be significant to gaining access. Gurney (2002) comments that being a female researcher in a male-dominated environment may aid not only formal but also informal access as women are regarded as ‘warmer’ and less threatening than men. Hence, gatekeepers may not demand the same level of assurances from women researchers prior to granting formal access. Conversely, women may find entry problematic because of a perceived lack of professionalism or credibility (Gurney, 2002). However, as Mulhall (2003) asserts, an effort can be made to rectify this position by dressing for the occasion, and deferring (within limits) to the authority and cultural expectations of gatekeepers.

Top Tip 17.2

Negotiating access may take longer than you anticipate. As part of your research planning, make sure that you give yourself sufficient ‘lead time’ in setting up your observation.

Gaining informed consent

Informing people in the research setting of what you are doing, and eliciting their consent, is seen as good practice by most researchers. Diener and Crandall (1978) suggest that fully informed consent should include:

· Describing the overall purpose of the research.

· Telling the participants about their role in the study.

· Stating why they have been chosen.

· Explaining the procedures, including the amount of time required.

· Clearly stating the risks and discomforts.

· Stating that the participants may withdraw at any time.

Read: Informed consent

As we saw in  Chapter 15  (recall  Figure 15.4 ), getting participants to sign a consent form is also prudent. This, of course, implies that covert observation cannot be undertaken. Bailey (2007) argues that achieving a cooperative relationship with a group more than compensates for what is lost through reactivity (between researcher and those being researched). However, the impact of the researcher’s presence and interactions needs to be reflected in field notes and analysis. Note that even after permission has been granted it can be withdrawn at any time and that this must be respected. Of course, there are often circumstances when informed consent is simply impractical. Burgess (1984) notes that in research in public settings (sports events, church services, etc.) access cannot be negotiated with every participant.

Becoming invisible

The researchers may become ‘invisible’ due to the length of time they are involved in the project, by immersing themselves into the norms and behaviours of the group being studied, or simply by hiding the fact that they are researchers. Young researchers, for example, would have greater success in integrating themselves as workers/researchers in a fast food retail outlet than, say, researching the activities of a Chamber of Commerce business club where membership tends to be older. As Berg (2006) points out, however, there are reasons why invisibility is a danger. If, for example, you go ‘undercover’ to research, say, criminal activities within an organization, you need to ensure that you do not become implicated yourself! On the whole, though, invisibility means that participants cease to be consciously aware of the researchers’ presence, and therefore act more naturally.

Building rapport

Rapport is concerned with ‘getting there’ and ‘being there’ and is often associated with themes such as empathy, immersion, participation, friendship, honesty, collaboration, trust and loyalty (Springwood and King, 2001). In the field, researchers seek to develop close interpersonal relationships with key informants based upon mutual respect and shared understandings. Berger (2001), for example, describes how she shared her personal stories with those engaged in her fieldwork studies, generating relationship formation and exchange between them. However, while this may appear simple at a surface level, in practice the achievement of rapport may be challenged where researchers find themselves having to hide their identities, or where their views and values clash with those they are researching. Westmarland (2001), for example, reports on her ethnographic study of the police where she witnessed a number of examples of police violence against an attempted suicide victim, a drug addict and others. As Reeves (2010) notes, while the researcher may be anxious to establish and maintain rapport in order to generate good-quality data, respondents do not have these concerns. Hence, in her study of convicted criminals living in a probation hostel, even though respondents were comfortable with her presence, they continued to tell her half-truths, lies and stories in order to give her an image they wanted to portray. Achieving rapport, then, does not necessarily lead to honest responses.

Handling identity – reflexive positioning

In undertaking participant observation one of the challenges is to maintain a balance between ‘insider’ and ‘outsider’ status. To gain a deep understanding of people’s lives it is essential that the researcher gets not only physically but also emotionally close to them – but how then does the researcher maintain a professional ‘distance’? Achieving this is often affected by issues such as the gender, race, social class and the education of the researcher compared to that of the people being researched. As one set of researchers put it:

Read: Reflexivity

The more one is like the participants in terms of culture, gender, race, socio-economic class and so on, the more it is assumed that access will be granted, meanings shared, and validity of findings assured. (Merriam et al., 2001: 406)

To remain an ‘outsider’ would be to fail to gain the kind of rapport that is needed to make this method a success. The participant observer, in a sense, needs to be both inside and outside the setting. Indeed, Merriam et al. (2001) argue that the boundaries between the two positions are not simple or clearly delineated. Being inside or outside is relative to a whole host of cultural and social characteristics and is a position that can shift over time. According to Hall (2000), the best the ethnographer can achieve is to negotiate a position in which one is in some way ‘at home’ and considered as ‘one of us’ without becoming completely immersed.

Positioning is a concept used in the analysis of narratives that allows researchers to explore how people make sense of themselves and construct their own identities (Possick, 2009). Using processes such as self-reflection, self-criticism and agency, participants can choose a position among the variety of positions available and/or generate new positions by performing narratives with the audience. One position is that of the autobiographical, an approach that seeks to acknowledge the effects of the researcher’s personal and intellectual biography on all stages of research through the process of reflexivity (Hugill, 2012; Mickelson, 2011). According to Possick (2009), while many researchers engage in reflection, much remains unpublished or separate from the main data analysis. In cases of research on sensitive topics, where there are strong emotional reactions and ethical dangers, this self-censorship is particularly glaring. Possick (2009) urges that autobiographical elements be included in the foreground of research, not the background. This, then, is one aspect of positioning. The personal account includes thoughts and feelings about the informants, the physical elements in the field, relevant autobiographical events and a variety of ‘unstructured musings about the research experience’ (Possick, 2009: 862).

Build: Professional distance

Employability Skill 17.1 Maintaining professional distance

Maintaining a ‘professional distance’ at work can be a challenge, especially when strong friendships develop outside the workplace or you connect with colleagues on social media. Being a participant observer and treading the tightrope between being an ‘insider’ and an ‘outsider’ in ethnographic research can be a similar experience, and an opportunity to prastise this key skill.

Getting out

While ethnographers have written quite extensively on entering a field of study and on developing rapport with participants, less is known about leaving the field (Lofland and Lofland, 1995). When to leave may have been planned early on in the project or it might result from the ‘Things to do’ portion of field notes getting ever smaller, or when fewer insights are emerging. Leaving the field of observation involves both the physical and emotional disengagement of the researcher. This is particularly the case if the observation has been conducted over a lengthy period of time and the researcher has developed empathy and commitment to the inhabitants. Prior to disengagement, the researcher should warn the community of members that this exit is imminent. The withdrawal is probably best handled in a series of stages. Rock (2001) agrees that quitting the field is never easy. Ethnographic research involves ‘emotional enmeshment’ (Possick, 2009: 868). For one thing, the researcher will have invested a considerable portion of themselves cultivating relationships and even friendships but these are now to be shed.

The ethnographer who courted others, who had seemingly limitless time to listen, is now revealed as a person who can no longer be bothered and is in a hurry to be off. (Rock, 2001: 36)

To make matters worse, the ethnographer is off to expose what has been learned to the whole world. No wonder people can feel used. In leaving the field, you might like to consider paying attention to the following elements:

· Make the fact that you will leave the field explicit at the start (that is, your project has a finite length).

· Indicate the date of your leaving several weeks before the event so there are no surprises.

· Remind respondents of your leaving date several days before it arrives.

· Hold a leaving ‘event’ to celebrate the project (but also remind others of your imminent departure).

· Organize emotional support for yourself (see next).

Top Tip 17.3

If undertaking insider participant research (especially if it is covert), consider using either your supervisor or another confidante as an adviser or ‘critical friend’. Use this person to discuss any problems you may be having, particularly in maintaining your sense of detachment and objectivity. You may also want to discuss any issues or incidents that raise ethical considerations.

Case Study 17.1

Ethnography, reciprocity and getting too close?

Ortiz (2004) describes an ethnographic study in which he researched the isolated world of the wives of professional athletes using sequential interviewing, participant observation, personal documents and print media accounts. He travelled thousands of miles across the USA during the process. As a result

I necessarily minimized involvement in other areas of my personal life. As a result, their world was my world for more than three years. (p. 470)

His impression management style was one of ‘muted masculinity’, offered in direct contrast to the hegemonic masculinity so common in the sports world. Hence, he became regarded as a man of a ‘different kind’ by many of the women whose lives were socially isolated. The establishment of reciprocity in his collaborative relationship with the women included babysitting, hanging curtains, running errands, shopping with them and even house-hunting. Over time, this closeness generated data that included secrets, gossip and occupationally relevant information (about their husbands).

Through sequential interviewing, critical topics were constantly emerging, but each new tantalizing piece of information became critical data that he felt he had to follow up with more interviews. Thus he got himself into an endless cycle of compulsive data collection. Even when he terminated a relationship he agreed to keep in touch with the respondent. He discovered, however, that staying in touch served to open up a Pandora’s box of new information. The therapeutic nature of the interview sessions also seemed to act as an added incentive for the wives to stay in touch with the researcher. Hence, although he knew he needed to make an effort to distance himself, ‘constant reminders of the wives and their marriages continued to pull me back into their isolated world’ (Ortiz, 2004: 479). He finally arrived at a point where he began to feel emotionally exhausted and trapped and terminated contact. Although this process left him with feelings of guilt, he concludes that ‘going native’ is not always a mistake, especially if collaborative relationships are mutually beneficial.

Activity 17.1

How does Ortiz (2004) justify his ‘compulsive data collection’? Can/should the researcher be both an ethnographer and an informal therapist? What steps should be taken to maintain ethical boundaries?

The field as a construction

In the previous section we explored fieldwork from a practical perspective, the researcher simply entering the field with an ‘open mind’, similar to Glaser and Strauss’s (1967) notion of fieldwork as a ‘clean slate’ where the researcher is free of prior experience. However, as Funder (2005) warns, this notion ignores the degree to which we are socialized and institutionalized into adopting ways of structuring and labelling the world we explore. For example, talking about the field of environment and development, we talk of sustainable resource management practices and unsustainable, so establishing categories of people who live sustainably or unsustainably.

This framing of the world through our pre-conceived ontologies often takes place through dichotomies: When addressing the environment and development problems, we frequently approach the world as divided into the poor and the wealthy, the rural and the urban, the community and the state, the traditional and modern, the natural and the degraded. Although we may attempt to overcome some such dualisms, they are powerful notions that to a large extent provide our only means of negotiating the world. (Funder, 2005: 2)

This Western pattern of knowledge production now permeates Asian societies as well, where, in some ways, Western science came to structure and