Research Ethics and Social Movements

Scholarship, Activism and Knowledge Production

Kevin Gillan, Jenny Pickerill

• Publisher: Taylor & Francis
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN: 9780367739126
• eBook ISBN: 9781317586005
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

What ethical challenges are faced by researchers studying social and political movements? Should scholars integrate their personal politics and identities into their research? What role should activists have in shaping the purposes or processes of social scientific research? How do changing political contexts affect the ethical integrity of a research project over time?

These are some of the live issues of research ethics that face students and scholars whose research 'subjects' are located in contentious political terrain. The contributors to this volume expose their own ethical thinking as they have met such challenges head on. Each explores real dilemmas of ethical practice on the ground as they carry out research on social movements across the globe. Authors examining pro-democracy activists in Malaysia, sanctions-breakers in the Gaza Freedom Flotilla, environmental health organisations in North America and much else find that the narrow confines of Research Ethics Committees and Institutional Review Boards offer little guidance on the questions that really matter. They offer instead a demonstration of continual reflexivity that is both personal and political in its approach. This book opens up debate on research ethics, delineating key challenges and offering hopeful and practical ways forward for real-world, ethical social science.

This bookw as published as a special issue of Social Movement Studies.

The Difficult and Hopeful Ethics of Research on, and with, Social Movements

KEVIN GILLAN* & JENNY PICKERILL**

*School of Social Science, University of Manchester, Manchester, UK, **Department of Geography, University of Leicester, Leicester, UK

ABSTRACT This article explores a number of key questions that serve to introduce this special issue on the ethics of research on activism. We first set out the limitations of the bureaucratic response to ethical complexities in our field. We then examine two approaches often used to justify research that demands time consuming and potentially risky participation in research by activists. We label these approaches the ethic of immediate reciprocity and the ethic of general reciprocity and question their impacts. We note, in particular, the tendency of ethics of reciprocity to preclude research on ‘ugly movements’ whose politics offends the left and liberal leanings predominant among movement researchers. The two ethics also imply different positionalities for the researcher vis-à-vis their subject movement which we explore, alongside dilemmas thrown up by multiple approaches to knowledge production and by complex issues of researcher and activist identities. The overall move to increasing complexity offered by this paper will, we hope, provide food for thought for others who confront real-world ethical dilemmas in fields marked by contention. We also hope that it will encourage readers to turn next to the wide range of contributions offered in this issue.

Introduction

Every stage of the research process into social movements can introduce complex ethical questions. The issues we choose to address are often highly politicised and involve our own moral judgements and sympathies. The groups and individuals with whom we engage, whether directly or through documentary records, may be in positions of peculiar vulnerability. They may be relatively powerless by virtue of their social situation, their activities may be covert or illegal, and they may face a high risk of repression. The data we gather, then, have special risks associated with them (Blee and Vinning, 2010), but ethical challenges do not stop once we insert our own analyses. Rather, we must make choices about what we report, in what terms we report it and what we leave unsaid, judging the risks faced by research respondents and deciding on the importance of giving voice to those who feel under-represented in their societies. Moreover, we must choose which audiences we wish to address. These issues and many more are likely to be familiar to anyone who has engaged in research on social movements, whatever the particular methodological techniques they employ. While some of these ethical challenges may seem unique to the study of social movements, we also believe that the lessons available here may be much more broadly applicable to original research in a number of cognate fields.

This special issue was prompted in part by the rising demands for researchers to specify the ethical implications of their work; demands of which anyone working within a higher education institution in the USA, Europe and perhaps further afield, will be aware. In the first section below, we argue that the bureaucratic nature of ethical review processes offers a partial, and at times, debilitating approach to carrying out ethical research. A part of the problem is the fact that deferral to research ethics ‘specialists’ empties such processes of the important complexities resulting from the substantive characteristics of any research project. This introduction highlights a number of those complexities as commonly experienced in research relating to social movements. Such complexities are not necessarily best served by more complex and sensitive (and therefore onerous) review procedures; they will not dissolve in a bureaucratic solution. It is instead the practices of sharing experiences, airing conundrums and puzzling over problems in the community of scholars and research participants that will allow researchers to continually improve the ethical standards of data collection, analysis and dissemination. This special issue is intended to be one step in that direction. No field has sharply defined boundaries of course, and it remains important to consider problems and solutions found in a range of social scientific fields; we hope, in this regard, that this special issue will have a relevance for anyone whose research subject is marked by contention or conflict, or who recognises the urge to take a principled stand for, or against, those who have been involved in or benefit from their research.

Here, we explore a few themes of particular interest that cut across the papers in this special issue, and a couple which perhaps have yet to be adequately addressed. In the next few paragraphs, we will briefly outline the role of institutional ethical review before this introduction (and indeed the whole volume) opens out the notion of research ethics to much broader and important questions. We conclude by identifying some hopeful ways forward in practising an ethical approach to researching activism.

Bureaucratic Demands and ‘Real’ Research Ethics

Not so long ago, demonstrating awareness of the relevant disciplinary ‘code of conduct’ for research was often all that was required to reassure supervisors, funders or managers that the ethical implications of one's social science research project had been thoroughly thought through. Research ethics committees in many institutions now have considerably strengthened oversight, lengthy forms and demanding panel meetings in which one must defend the procedures used for research. Additional demands are thus placed not only on professional researchers but also on our doctoral students and, in some institutions, undergraduates too. There are undoubtedly instances where review processes will have encouraged better practices and one positive outcome is the increasing focus on research ethics in our teaching. It has now become rather more automatic to consider the genuine ethical quandaries that might arise in one's research project although, in our own experience, and that of many of our students, the ‘real ethics’ that we considered before submitting our projects to ethical review never seem to have a box on the form.

While drafting this introduction we received an email publicising a book that promised to help us ‘Avoid Ethical Lapses that Put Your Project and Organization at Risk’ with ‘the use of graphics, checklists, examples, and other tools’ (marketing materials for Kliem, 2011). The check-box approach to ethics, which is the mainstay of any bureaucratic procedure, may help deal with certain sorts of risk but is ultimately limited. By reducing ethics to a generic checklist, often not even sensitive to differences between physical and social sciences, let alone different disciplines, much of the ambiguity of ethics is lost. Yet it is precisely the ambiguity—the uncertainty of what research is for, who it should benefit and what risk and harm is acceptable in conducting research—that ethical thinking should help us navigate. Ethical questions are not clear cut but are heavily contextualised by the researchers' own positionality and relationship to research subjects. Instead many university ethical procedures simply require social scientists to ensure written consent forms and project information sheets are used. Consent forms are required for ethical approval, regardless of the fact that they can be highly inappropriate for some forms of activism research. This process of approval is further generalised (and thus limited) by the process of peer approval operating within specialised departments which means that those who determine if research is ethical often have no knowledge of the field of research which they judge. We have encountered ethics officers who resist any alternative approaches because they have no knowledge of social movements or the variety of approaches taken in researching with them.

Reducing all of this complexity to questions on whether a ‘gatekeeper’ will need to provide access or whether physical tests will be carried out on subjects ignores the importance of the process of research, the need to navigate scenarios where there is no clear ‘right’ choice, and the requirement to respond to changing conditions. At many universities in Britain, although ethics committees have been established, there is still no mechanism for checking whether researchers actually implemented the ethical approach they signed up to. There is no feedback mechanism as to how research was actually undertaken or any reflection or sharing of lessons learnt in the field. In this way, ethics are still perceived as a static consideration to be completed early in any research project, rather than the dynamic, complex and ongoing dilemma that researchers really face. Indeed, in this volume many of the most difficult and complex ethical questions and choices faced by researchers emerged late in the research process (see both De Jong and Creek, this issue) when much data collection had already been completed. It is often the temporal implications of participation, the evolving affiliation with research subjects and the heightened politicisation of researchers (often through the research itself) that emerge which raise really interesting ethical dilemmas. As such these questions of participation, politics, identity, reciprocity and social justice are the issues too often missed from a bureaucratic approach to ethics.

The Complexity of Reciprocation

There is a growing trend within social movement research for academics to consciously, indeed loudly, take on the role of ‘activist-scholars’ (Routledge, 1996; Maxey, 1999; Fuller & Kitchen, 2004; Bevington & Dixon, 2005; Graeber, 2009; The Autonomous Geographies Collective, 2010). Such arguments tend to assert the potential for academics to make a real and positive impact on movements they are studying. This may be simply by using ethnographic methods that enable participation with movements that are being studied, thereby adding to the movement's number and offering a particular set of skills. Or it may be that the activist-scholars focus more on their particular skills, offering research and writing activity that may be beneficial to movement participants (though see Flacks, 2005), while not necessarily putting themselves on the line in physical actions. Taking on the activist-scholar role is often justified through an argument, we will refer to as the ethics of immediate reciprocation: participation in research has its costs for activists through the time taken and in the personal security risk (which may be perceived as considerable when the researcher is not personally known to participants beforehand), so, academics must ask, what can we do to return favours due? Directly aiding the movement one studies becomes one of the answers.

Such arguments are explored and advanced in a number of contributions to this special issue, so we will not detail them further here (see Dawson and Sinwell; Cordner et al.; Smeltzer; Chesters; and Santos; this issue). We would, however, like to sound a few notes of caution concerning this ethical claim. We want to be cautious about advocating reciprocity as a simple and easy resolution to the inequity of power between researchers and research participants, as a way to gain access to groups, as a way to enact social change, or to share in the ‘risk’ of activism per se. While both of us have practised reciprocity in various ways over the years, it has rarely been an easy ethical approach.

The main issue with immediate reciprocity is that problems of objectification do not disappear through participation (Roseneil, 1993). As the trend for identifying as activist-scholars has grown so too has the kudos for being an activist within academia. No longer marginalised for being subjective, this active engagement with social change actors has meant that it is increasingly possible to benefit from links with social movements in order to further one's academic career (most notably in Britain through the inclusion of an ‘impact’ factor in our formal Research Excellence Framework which measures our engagement with those ‘outside’ academia). Benefitting from others' knowledge and actions to further one's career is the antithesis of what an ethical approach should be about (see also Chesters, this volume). At the same time, there may be limits to how useful the activity offered by academics really is; as Croteau has it, ‘Becoming an academic to support social movements is akin to launching a space program to develop a pen that writes upside down. At best, it is a circuitous route’ (2005: 20). We do not make these points as an accusation against those scholars we reference above and recognise that there are other justifications for the activist-scholar role. It is noteworthy, however, that even a perception of an instrumental, exchange-based approach might have longer-term dangers for relationships between social scientists and activists.

Another result of an emphasis on reciprocation is to narrow those movements which we study. Most of the arguments concerning immediate reciprocity have come from scholars studying movements that are, broadly speaking, of the left. Given a decided leftward lean among the social movement researchers, activist-scholars can expect some argument concerning the particular politics of particular movements, but are unlikely to face hostility about the broader ambitions of the movements they attempt to assist. However, it is intellectually essential not to restrict our collective endeavours to research on movements with which we can have such easy relationships. It is necessary to research anti-abortion movements, racist national movements, terrorist movements and the whole gamut of fundamentalist religions. How, then, does one apply the ethic of immediate reciprocation when one requests (as Creek has done, this issue) the participation of ex-gay activists who proselytise on the basis that people need redemption from their non-heterosexual identities? Genuine attempts to assist ugly movements achieve their goals would likely meet consternation from those who have argued so strongly for ‘embedded’ activist-scholarship.

If the study of a diversity of movements is important for social movement scholarship, then the ethic of immediate reciprocation raises uncomfortable demands and introduces political contestation squarely at the heart of the collective, intellectual endeavour. While it would be misleading to pretend that individual academics' politics could be banished from their research, to turn all research on activism into political action would be to weaken any claims to the systematic creation and critique of knowledge that the academic field could muster.

Thus, there is a need to critically examine whether immediate reciprocation could preclude the important task of exploring a diversity of social movements, and whether the ethic of immediate reciprocation could itself become a dominant and ultimately unhelpful dogma in social movement studies. There is a danger that reciprocation is practised simply as a way to gain access, rather than as a genuine desire to aid the movement; potentially an ethically dishonest approach. The growing assumption that reciprocation is a preferred ethic has also had unfortunate implications on activists' expectations of researchers. Reciprocation becomes particularly messy and emotionally fraught when research subjects assume abundant resources are available, or request help with tasks in which the researcher has no skill (The Autonomous Geographies Collective, 2010; see also Dawson and Sinwell, this issue). Though as Smeltzer (this issue) argues often the most useful immediate reciprocation involves ‘back office’ work which is less visible but just as important as front line direct action. These issues are in addition to the long-known quandaries of when such participation and reciprocation blurs the ability of academics to think critically about their subject and the need for continual reflexivity about our roles and positionality (England, 1994; Plows, 1998; Cordner et al., this issue).

The Value of Academic Knowledge Production and Dissemination

The desire to reciprocate on research participants' investment in a project is hardly the only justification for activist-scholarship. To the extent that individuals mobilise the knowledge and skills of their intellectual discipline in the service of particular groups, then the activities of activist-scholars may fit with calls for a more public sociology (which may, of course, be extended to many social science disciplines) and, perhaps more surprisingly, with the desire of funding bodies to see the impact of research on a variety of stakeholders or ‘user groups’ relevant to the study.¹ These arguments imply an older ethic of general reciprocity: it may be impossible to ‘pay back’ a research participant for their efforts in any direct way that does not somehow compromise the research, but the utility of the results of research will offer some benefit at a broader, societal level.

The main dilemma then becomes whether, and how, knowledge produced should be of relevance to social movements. Knowledge produced should at least be physically accessible to those who participated in its creation, though so much, including unfortunately the papers in this journal, remain locked up in costly or inaccessible publications (Pickerill, 2008). Even if such public...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Citation Information
• Notes on Contributors
• 1. The Difficult and Hopeful Ethics of Research on, and with, Social Movements
• 2. Social Movements and the Ethics of Knowledge Production
• 3. Reflexive Research Ethics for Environmental Health and Justice: Academics and Movement Building
• 4. Ethical and Political Challenges of Participatory Action Research in the Academy: Reflections on Social Movements and Knowledge Production in South Africa
• 5. The Gaza Freedom Flotilla: Human Rights, Activism and Academic Neutrality
• 6. Sisterhood and After: Individualism, Ethics and an Oral History of the Women's Liberation Movement
• 7. Ethics, Activism and the Anti-Colonial: Social Movement Research as Resistance
• 8. Disclosed and Willing: Towards A Queer Public Sociology
• 9. Asking Tough Questions: The Ethics of Studying Activism in Democratically Restricted Environments
• 10. Research Note: A Personal Reflection on Negotiating Fear, Compassion and Self-Care in Research
• Index