Understanding Research (9 page)

So to sum up:
theory
, however defined, speaks to the conceptualization side of things, the philosophical underpinnings of a piece of research. On the one hand these underpinnings are integral to certain
worldviews
(Creswell 2009: 5–11); implicit and articulate beliefs and understandings about what the nature of the world is (
ontology
), the form and substance of appropriate knowledge about the world (
epistemology
). On the other hand, these worldviews inform more formalized procedures; some follow the two sides of the divide explicitly, other
research methodologies
look to straddle if not bridge the quantitative–qualitative divide.

When speaking of
method
, we are addressing particular methods techniques, or tactics within the design of a larger ‘research strategy’ (Creswell 2009), that allow us to go and collect data; this needs collation, analysis, and then shaping as we come to conclusions about them. Both these dimensions need considering in all research. To what degree is where we see the field diversify into varying levels of abstraction, typologies of theories and/or methods and, by association, topographies of disciplinary research paradigms (ibid.: 5). How codified and rigorously adhered to during the course of project planning, design, execution and eventual outcome, the interrelationship between the theoretical and methodological parts of the work distinguish quantitative modes of research design from qualitative ones; mixed methods or anti-method approaches claiming to fill the would-be void that separates them.

From the view of where to put each of these elements in a research proposal and then later into your final report, John Creswell notes that the ‘theory section’ is worth separate treatment (2009: 57) for the sake of coherence and clarity, particularly in undergraduate and postgraduate research projects. By the same token, and this is a particular occupational hazard for empirical research drawing on qualitative research’s diverse theoretical literature, this does not mean to say that the object here is for you to construct a ‘theory section’ that has to be watertight; a straitjacket, or container into which any findings are poured (Lather in Creswell 2009: 65). The converse holds for how you present, and place your eventual ‘method section’ and/or ‘methodological discussion’ as well.

This all sounds easier said than done given that often our best methodological discussion is the one we (re)write after the research in question has been completed, results written up and presented. That said, and even at these early exploratory and designing stages, it is not advisable to settle your method first, before you’ve formulated a research question or even come up with a topic (this happens more often than it should). Why not?

1. Whilst you may naturally start here based on past successes, preconceived ideas about your own ability, or as part of your own research identity politics (see
   Chapters 3
   ,
   4
   and
   7
   ), it is better to move from topic to research question by considering both theoretical and methodological options.
   
2. This may mean doing a preliminary review of the literature in this topic area before settling on what would work, or
   
3. deciding, whether or not theory is an explicit feature of your project, ‘how the theory will be used in the study, . . . an up-front explanation, as an end-point, or as [some sort of ] lens’ (Creswell 2009: 64).
   
4. It helps to think about where in the larger proposal, or report, the theory works beyond its formal role as ‘my theory chapter’.
   
5. The converse holds for where discussion of particular methods, along with methodological considerations, end up; alongside the theory, as a separate chapter, in an appendix where your interview questions are there for easy reference, or as a passing reference in those projects based on purely theoretical – philosophical – explorations.
   

Indeed you may well need to rethink several elements again (see
Box 2.1
above) once you know more about the topic. A method is not in itself a research question. Nor is it a theory as such.

Whilst these two dimensions are both vital to getting research done, letting a particular method take the lead in your initial thinking and planning is equivalent to having the ‘tail wag the dog’. So, like David Gray, I too would strongly advise you to remember that when ‘planning a research project,
never
begin by deciding on what data-gathering tool or approach to use. Begin [instead] by identifying what it is you are actually trying to research’ (2009: 34, original emphasis).

All in all, talk of theory, method and/or methodology is an area in which there is a lot of unconscious if not deliberate fudging of terms. This discussion has taken each term in turn and highlighted the analytical and philosophical distinctions they bring to bear on our work. Fudging aside, for this reason from this point on the term
methodology
is taken as a synecdoche for the larger enterprise of research as an undertaking that entails another lively but enervating tension: that between our theory and our method.

The last chapter looked at ways of getting prepared, in the right frame of mind for embarking upon an extended research undertaking. It looked at initial decision making alongside some of the thornier conceptual and operational issues that emerge even in these early stages. We now turn to research design – project planning in so many words. These are the ways in which we show that we are clear about how we can put our intellectual investigation into action, and achieve our objectives in the time allotted. Here variations, large and small, between and within disciplines will
come to the surface according to which elements are prioritized. The same applies for which form and stylistic conventions are favoured when submitting a written work-plan, our first feedback – formal and informal assessment – often for the
research proposal
, or as is the case for dissertation projects,
research outline
.
¹

In both instances these plans need to arrange those key elements (see
Box 2.1
) in some sort of
temporal
sequence and developmental logic (
Box 3.1
below). The more attention you pay to these elements as aspects that all require some forward planning, the better; for example, which books or articles to study first, to selecting or formulating key concepts, to outlining how you will tackle a key thinker’s work, get access to an online community, or find suitable experimental ‘guinea-pigs’ or interview subjects. As you field questions, criticisms, and alternative suggestions from supervisors, classmates, and others, you will also become aware of inherent weaknesses in the idea, the planning, any underlying assumptions that may cloud your thinking, as well as deficiencies in your knowledge of research literature pertinent to your inquiry (see
Chapter 4
). Ironing out these glitches in these first phases could well prevent you from major (as opposed to the usual) setbacks and disappointments later on; unforeseen events notwithstanding.

For these reasons alone the challenges of developing an explicit, coherent but also flexible action-plan by which you will carry out and complete the research are shared by all approaches. They also share the working knowledge that getting to the requisite level of coherence – feasibility and persuasiveness in other words – entails a certain degree of initial research, knowledge that may not explicitly find its way into your final report. In some cases you may need to complete some
pilot research
if not a
pilot project
.

Keeping with this book’s approach to deal with more complex issues as they arise during the research process, this chapter unpacks the ‘mysteries’ of research design, in four ways:

1. The
   main stages of a research project
   and the vexed question, ‘Why plan?’ These include issues to consider when drafting and then presenting a work-plan. Supervisors expecting evidence of progress and students who underestimate the need to put some elbow grease into the practical planning of any research undertaking (from experiments to philosophical investigations) often come unstuck on this point.
   
2. Zooming in closer, we look at ways of turning a research topic (see
   Chapter 2
   ) into a
   research question
   , or
   hypothesis
   . Whilst they have much in common in this respect, quantitative and qualitative research modes do have different takes on this matter, employ different vocabularies, and demand different loadings in terms of how the question, or hypothesis are expressed, the degree of step-by-step planning required to convince others that you know what you are doing.
   
3. Then we take a step back from the nitty-gritty to look at how they speak to some underlying differences in working assumptions about the form, content, and objectives of
   scientific reasoning
   ; the status of Science, with a big S, in society raises a set of issues that overlap those already raised in the theory–method discussion from the last chapter. As research designs are often the first public outing for some
   projects, how their viability, relevance, and acceptability are judged by those in a position to veto – or fund – them is where implicit differences in worldview can crystallize as prescription; norms, rules, and values around notions of academic best practice.
   
4. This section takes an initial look at two aspects to managing our project, and ourselves along the way: (i) research ethics and how codes of practice have implications for your research design and execution; (ii) the supervisory relationship, a primary mentoring or collaborative relationship that can affect how research students – and supervisors – see themselves and their own research in both an institutional and societal context. We revisit both aspects in later chapters as their implications change for a project.
   

These aspects are brought together in the last section in the form of a methodological survival guide; an orientation device for the more focused discussions in
Chapters 5
to
7
. Whilst many effective and successful research projects develop in a more organic way, in literary studies or more philosophical approaches, the goal of this chapter is to show that planning ahead can be useful across the board, even when formal research proposals are not mandatory requirements. Being confronted with fundamental methodological deficiencies or ethical oversights is not a pleasant experience in the final lead-up to the deadline or in an oral exam.