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How To Do Things With Questions. The checklist of a good research question
Ianuarie 2012
There are a few criteria a question should fulfil in order to be called a good research question[1]. As first year undergraduates we learn about the importance of originality. In our studies, we are supposed to pursue subjects which have not been already approached, study new phenomena, or discover new relationships between them.
Little do we know, as we embark on this quest for originality. It is recommended not to have high expectations. The more we read about the subject we are interested in, the less we believe in the possibility of coming up with an original idea. It seems as every correlation has already been studied, every causal relationship explored, and every phenomenon accounted for. However, although a thorough literature review might crush our enthusiasm, it is the first step towards a good research question. Not only do we have to start somewhere, but we also have to start sometime and not give up after the first unsuccessful attempt. The key is to hold on, until, after having reviewed the classics, we reach contemporary theories and state-of-the-art studies.
Although we need to know the past to understand the present, originality is rarely hidden under piles of dust. Nevertheless, we should not ignore the subject’s history and earlier research attempts. Gordon W. Allport (1968, 33) noticed that it is a common practice to review and cite primarily recent studies, while ignoring older ones. As a consequence, new concepts may approach an old reality under a different name. For example, in the 1930s, social psychologists were studying suggestion under the name persuasion, rationalisation called cognitive dissonance, and friendship as interpersonal attraction.
In conclusion, originality is found in the newest journal editions, but only classics help us tell the difference between new ideas or just new labels.
Secondly, good research questions should be realistic. We should let our imagination run wild, but not wonder beyond what is attainable. Constraints can arise in various forms. For example, if I wanted to conduct a study on the practices of drinking tea in Mexico, I might encounter a few difficulties. It is not only the geographical gap that may impede on my endeavour. It could also be lack of funding or time. Moreover, having not been acquainted with Mexican culture or Mexican language, it might be difficult to conduct this study in Mexico. These obstacles and others can be avoided by choosing a realistic goal and compromising between available means and scientific curiosity.
Thirdly, a research question is supposed to be specific, without being restrictive. It is important to include all relevant aspects of the investigated subject and also to leave out superfluous details. During various parts of a research, we will often change our minds about what is central and what is peripheral in our investigation. Therefore, our questions will be transformed by our shifting interests and we have to be prepared to let go of old obsessions. As Jean-Claude Kaufmann (1992/1998, 225) admits, we get attached to our ideas and it is hard to accept their demise. However, on rare occasions, their deaths facilitate their rebirths.
Last, but not least, a research question should be inspirational. It should address a subject which we deeply care about, thus animating our curiosity and impinging us to pursue the answer. In my opinion, the interest aroused by our research question is its most important characteristic. Content or form may change more or less, but without being stimulating, the question will fail to fulfil its duty of animating the research.
In conclusion, we shouldn’t ask how a good research question looks like, but instead, what it can do.
What can a research question do?
Having established that research questions might change throughout our investigation, it is important to follow their use in various stages of our enquiry.
First, as I have already mentioned, providing answers to questions with personal and/or social relevance often constitutes the motivation for starting an empirical investigation.
Furthermore, while advancing with our study, we become more preoccupied, interested in, obsessed about, or even overwhelmed by our research questions. Passionately seeking an answer ensures that we are prepared for whatever obstacles we need to overcome. However, this also means accepting that research questions can change during our investigation. Nevertheless, if we lose our interest in seeking out the answer, we will most likely surrender in front of the many challenges of empirical research.
Thirdly, if we keep a moderate, “healthy” distance from our research questions, we can monitor their evolution and let them guide our exploration. Their development can be based on literature review, personal (un)systematic observations, empirical evidence, discussions with friends and acquaintances, or plain intuitions. Recollecting the steps we took to answering our research questions, we tell the story of our research. Following their transformation, we relive our own theoretical and methodological metamorphosis.
Lastly, a study’s evaluation can start from the answer provided to its research question. Is it a satisfactory answer? Does it correspond with our expectations and hypotheses? Is the answer reliable and valid? And, more importantly, does it lead to a new research question?
In conclusion, there are no good or bad research questions per se, only research questions which are poorly or fruitfully employed by scientists.
Lost and found
In the last part of this essay, I will tell the story of my current research questions. It starts with my bachelor thesis, where I described an experiment investigating the differences in first impressions of target persons caused by focusing attention on distinct nonverbal channels, as well as by the presence or absence of sound. I was interested in finding out how people decode information from nonverbal communication and form impressions of others with whom they interact.
My goal was to obtain a better understanding of the relationship between the exterior, a person’s appearance, and the interior, a person’s personality. Thus, I asked: are first impressions accurate? What type of mechanisms underlies impression formation? What type of information gets processed in order to accomplish the transition from what is directly graspable into unseen traits and instances? And, last but not least, what parts do the characteristics of the observer, the target, and the situation play in impression formation?
However, my research interests evolved past what I now call a cognitive approach. I can’t point out exactly when or where I lost the interest in finding out more about impression formation from this point of view. It might have something to do with the ecologist approach which puts am emphasis on stimulus affordance disregarding cognitive mechanisms. It might have been due to the lack of ecological validity which is characteristic for experiments on impression formation. Maybe I have started having doubts during the Throwing out of the Tacit Rule Book (Turner, 2001). And they became more visible when I encountered Wittgenstein’s concept of “philosophical picture” in Nigel Pleasants (1999, 3) text. I wondered about its fit for describing first impressions. In the end, I was rather unsure whether there was a phenomenon left to investigate. I had little faith or interest in cognitive theory of impression formation. However, I had no clue where to find the theoretical and methodological means to overcome it.
It was at that moment that I had an inspiring talk with a good friend, a researcher and a PhD student herself in psychology. I was confiding in her my fears, disclosing that I thought impressions do not actually exist, and how I do not know how to continue my research. She thought I was going through “one of those moments”, when you get so close to the object of your obsession, that you are blind sighted by its overwhelming presence. It was time to take a break. I disagreed. For me, the phenomenon was lost, nowhere in sight. And I had no clue how to find it.
That was the moment she inquired about my research questions; this small, but significant stage in every empirical investigation. I had forgotten about them. She stressed their importance and encouraged me to tackle this subject before going further. I don’t remember if I understood immediately what she meant. However, a few days after our talk, I constructed a first version of a new set of research questions, which surprisingly pointed out my theoretical stance. Now, I seek a better understanding of impression formation as a topic of conversation, inquiring into the vocabularies and discursive devices people use when talking about their impressions of others. In addition, I am looking forward to pointing out similarities and differences between these vocabularies and those employed in scientific articles on the same topic.
It is very likely that, until I finish my PhD thesis, these questions will have changed dramatically. I’m looking forward to their transformation and everything it might bring along.
References
Allport, Gordon W. (1968). Six decades of social psychology. In G. W. Allport. The Person in Psychology (pp. 28-42). Boston: Beacon Press.
Kaufmann, Jean-Claude. [1992] (1998). Interviul comprehensiv. In F. de Singly, A. Blanchet, A. Gotman, and J-C. Kaufmann. Ancheta şi metodele ei (pp. 199-294). Iaşi: Polirom
Pleasants,Nigel. (1999). Wittgenstein and the Idea of Critical Social Theory. London: Routledge.
Turner, Stephen. (2001). Throwing out the tacit rule book: learning and practices. In T. Schatski, K. Knorr-Cetina, and E. von Savigny (eds.). The Practice Turn in Contemporary Theory (pp. 120-130). London: Routledge
[1] This chapter makes use of ideas drawn from discussions conducted during the Research Methodology Seminar with undergraduate students from the University of Bucharest, the Faculty of Sociology and Social Work