General principles
Ethnographic approaches define anthropological research. As George Marcus puts it, the ‘ethnographic research project [is a] single site probing of local situations and peoples. . . . Ethnography is predicated upon attention to the everyday, an intimate knowledge of face-to-face communities and groups . . . that habitually focuses upon subaltern subjects, those positioned by systemic domination’ (1995: 98, 99, 101; see Fabian 1983, Hakken 1999).
Historically, particularly during the colonial era, this meant knowledge gained by the anthropologist – ethnographer – spending time with a community in a specific location that was foreign to their own. Traditionally:
- Ethnographic research requires a personal commitment in physical and emotional terms that are eschewed in other quarters.
- Part of the skill-set required for carrying out anthropological fieldwork successfully entails a grasp of the local language, cultural customs, and a commitment to developing close relationships and mutual obligations with the community as a whole; most particularly with your ‘local contacts’, ‘host family’, or ‘informants’.
- The net result of this close-up and longer-term (i.e. longitudinal) approach to undertaking research is highly nuanced, wide-ranging and produces rich sorts of material that ranges from direct observations of other ways of life, cultural practices, and production as drawings, film or photographs; insights gained from conversations or more formalized interviews with community members; incorporation of various forms of linguistic, textual or visual analysis of images, rituals, speech patterns, or commerce.
What distinguishes this level of close-up, relative ‘insider’ research and the sorts of
rich description
produced when the fieldwork is formally written up is that the researcher gains – and then claims – particular levels of understanding based on the quality of this ‘fly-on-the-wall’ access; sometimes to what are often conversations, rituals, or community events that would not be possible by other, more formal or hands-off approaches to data-gathering.
For anthropological projects, the outcome of this approach is an
ethnography,
or
ethnographic study
. This is a report which presents a comprehensive narrative, a picture of life in the respective community, or group. This approach also applies to projects where the researcher may pay close attention to a particular aspect of a broader community’s daily life (e.g. coming of age rituals), the role played by particular members (e.g. women, or teenagers), or core activities (e.g. fishing, producing ‘zines, basket-weaving, participating in an online discussion group); for example, how gossip works as an integral part of everyday communicative cultures in a Pacific Island country (Besnier 2009), or the daily grind of life as a group of street sellers in Greenwich Village, New York (Duneier 1999).
Whilst the above characterization is central to traditional anthropological projects, the premise has been increasingly adopted by other disciplines – sociologists and media researchers in particular. Any – episodic or extended – time spent with a group of human subjects, sometimes even if this involves carrying out interviews on the spot or attending a gathering (conference, or meeting on a street corner), has nowadays taken on the ‘ethnographic’ label. Add to this the way anthropologists and other researchers have been engaging in web-based forms of internet/virtual ethnography or ethnographic-inflected sorts of data-gathering since the early days of the internet, and we see how this approach is no longer confined to anthropology departments. Nor is it confined to face-to-face, exotic locations as anthropologists – ‘virtual ethnographers’ – study web-based cultures and communities.
The double-edged effects of research
in
and
on
the field, changes in the location and nature of the ‘field’ itself, and emerging ethical practicalities around online modes of participant-observation permeate ongoing debates within anthropology; about the nature and limits of the field, cultural practices as global rather than local phenomena, the privileging of a single-sited approach to ethnographic studies. As other disciplines develop their own versions of ethnographic research and respective notions of what can or cannot be achieved by this sort of inclusive and composite mode of data-gathering, the section below looks at the key characteristics for non-anthropologists.
The brief excursion above into what is a vast literature and established academic discipline indicates how the term
ethnographic
has a number of applications, and is more elastic that the stricter notion of ethnography, understood largely as a particular sort of writing based on a specific sort of engagement and locus for the researcher (see Fabian 1983, Ulin 1984).
The governing premise of any sort of project aiming or claiming to be ethno-graphic is that the data-gathering is based on
participant-observation
. What this means, in contrast to the varying degrees of distanced observational modes adopted for (quasi) experimental research, surveys, or even focus groups, is that the researcher is deliberately in the thick of it; getting the ‘seats of their pants dirty’ (Paccagnella 1997). Visible and with permission to be there in on-the-ground situations; not necessarily visible, yet also with access granted in online ones.
Three other working principles distinguish ethnographic participant-observation and corollary data-gathering from other approaches:
- The
where
: ‘I am doing fieldwork’; this statement covers a range of data-gathering about and with human subjects that takes researchers outside their institutional and geographical working environment; for example, travelling to where people live or work to conduct interviews or focus groups. What we are talking about here though is a more marked notion of fieldwork/the field, one that can entail the observation of people in a public place like a railway station or city square for a specified length of time – ‘non-participant’ observation (see C. Davies 2007: 174–6), being granted access to a particular event (for example, a ritual) or location reserved for insiders (a board meeting, private club), or spending long periods within – living in – a community. In the last three instances, fieldwork, whether or not its parameters are geographical, physical or, nowadays, digital, presupposes a time commitment over an extended period, or episodes.
- The
how
: With the exception of where physical invisibility or physical distance governs the vantage point from which researchers are observing (for example, experiments, observation points in public places, web-based communities), extended periods of observation are premised on the researcher being inside the field, known if not visible to those s/he is interacting with. The researcher is a tacit, if not active participant in their surroundings. As a rule, carrying out any period of participant-observation satisfactorily cannot happen without consent; permission from those whose activities, ways of life, or customs are the object of study – the ‘locals’ – in general, and in particular respective leaderships, gate-keepers, or guardians (as is the case with minors). This sort of research is longitudinal in the sense that time spent in the field matters; anthropologists speak of entering, exiting, and revisiting the field.
- Ethical obligations
:
Chapters 3
and
5
address the issue of research ethics; many of the principles are also foundational to anthropological rules and procedures. In short, research subjects in ethnographic work can, and do talk back; fields can and do become closed to the researcher later on. For this reason, ethical considerations play a major role in the design and execution of the research, as do local and historical contexts.
In light of those specifics, note that:
- This fly-on-the-wall work is where the material gathered, analysis made, and knowledge produced are all defined by up-closeness.
- Stronger still, the researcher is presenting their findings premised on their understanding of a
relative
– or
reflexive
– objectivity that emerges from their interrelationship within and with the field and its inhabitants; ethnographic knowledge is thereby regarded as distinct from ‘subjective experience’ even though personal experiences do colour the final analysis (see di Leonardo 1991, Fabian 1983, Marcus 1995).
- For these reasons, some of the detail and nuance can threaten to overwhelm the researcher if not the eventual report under the ‘weight of its own detail’.
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Just as statistics don’t speak for themselves, the wealth of observations and experiences forming any extended and in-depth ethnographic encounter in the field need shaping into a narrative related to the core research inquiry.
- Precisely because the sort of information gathered, and insights gained by the researcher are effectively a sort of ‘first-hand’ knowledge, this approach is in sharp contrast to experimental research, large survey work, and focus group-based research.
- The legitimacy, replicability, and thereby transparency of the scholarly product rests on the ability of the researcher to present and ground their findings in the integrity of relationships forged whilst in the field and those maintained afterwards with their hosts.
As there is a large literature within anthropology and also related disciplines covering theoretical (for example, conceptualizing the ‘field’) as well as practical issues (debates about ‘going native’ or neo-colonialist relations between western researchers
and non-western cultures) for this sort of research the sections below select several aspects that non-anthropologists can overlook or underestimate. As participant-observation techniques, from ‘non-participatory’ to ‘full immersion’, have become par for the course, the fine line between this sort of data-gathering and ethnographic research proper is the subject of ongoing debates amongst anthropologists and those working from other disciplinary frameworks ‘borrowing’ from the ethnographic tradition.
For our purposes, the three following practical distinctions need addressing if your research inquiry is served by spending time with a community, or group of people beyond the time it takes to interview or survey them, or set up focus-group work:
- (i) getting into, and working ‘in the field’;
- (ii) exiting and returning to the field;
- (iii) changing fields; ‘multi-sited’ ethnographic research on the ground and online; global and local contexts.
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Practicalities
In terms of gaining, and sustaining access, the principles of informed consent and related ethical points govern how you need to approach any potential site, or community for both on-the-ground and online scenarios (see
Chapters 3
and
5
). The main points to note once you have access, and particularly if you intend to observe/participate for any extended length of time, involve you in (1) varying shades of (digitized or embodied) visibility; (2) developing relationships as you consciously engage, or find yourself drawn into interactions; (3) keeping your bearings and records of what you see, hear, and feel;
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and (4) exiting and returning to a field.
Whilst traditional settings, face-to-face and in a clearly demarcated site of action, dominate this literature, the points below also pertain to online, computer-mediated participant-observation in varying degrees of immersion, and visibility.
Visibility/invisibility
Here most fly-on-the-wall approaches are characterized by the visibility of any initial ‘entrance’ (a group meets you for the first time; your avatar and/or IP address becomes registered on an online discussion group; a moderator, or you introduce yourself as a new member/researcher) becoming less prominent as time goes on.
- In traditional, on-the-ground settings, we are always ‘ there’, visible to those others who are at the end of the day part of our inquiry. Even then, the fear that many novice researchers have about their presence disturbing proceedings is less significant than imagined. First, people get used to having you there. Second our presence is less important to people engaged in everyday cultural or social relationships then we imagine. Only if our presence, or participation, and perhaps eventual misuse of what we may learn there creates tensions might we need to reconsider, adjust, and respond.
- Online, it is still moot about how far a researcher needs to worry about this aspect. The basic rule of thumb is that each community has its own limits and ‘ netiquette’ concerns about accepting observers, or having members become researchers. You need to work this out as your project proceeds, having gained access and informed consent initially. Sometimes you simply need to ‘“show up” and reveal [your identity as a researcher]’ and that will suffice.
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- Given ongoing debates, it is best not to assume that the permission from an administrator online is enough. Indeed many moderators defer on this matter when first approached.
- On the ground, and online in particular, there could be moments when a researcher becomes almost too invisible. This is as relationships, allegiances, and perhaps conflicts take on a role of their own.
Developing relationships
Being in the thick of it means of course that no researcher is immune, or untouched by what goes on around them. Here, you may find that your initial impressions, allegiances, and perception of what is ‘really’ going on change over time. You may yourself become the object of ‘flaming’, either by participating in a discussion (online) or having your presence objected to by others. You may also develop friendships, debts of gratitude, and dislikes for others.
- Here, the best advice is to actually remember that you are still a researcher; being allowed inside, or coming into a situation as an insider brings its own degree of accountability and unexpected shifts in view. In short, just as an interview is not a naturalistic conversation per se, neither is any degree of participant-observation the same as everyday community membership.
- These two dimensions may well overlap during the fieldwork. However, on getting back to ‘homebase’ (your institution, home/office) your analysis and writing up of your findings constitute a shift in power (you become an author) and vantage-point (your observations at the time become ‘data’ to be analysed and applied later on).
- For these reasons alone, ethnographic research reports are not only full of ‘rich description’ but they are also to some extent autobiographical accounts; the researcher needs to ‘flag’ this reflexive dimension in various ways.
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Clearly, a very different notion of observation, and avoiding bias, to those practised in other disciplines (see
Chapter 1
).
- Be aware, and prepared for access to be denied (at the outset), challenged, or perhaps needing to be renegotiated.
- Informed consent is thereby the first step in evolving, and devolving relationships. The bottom line is that in most situations, if people know what you are doing there and are assured their words and deeds will be treated with respect, there is little to worry about.
Keeping your bearings
As noted above, the main difference between participant-observation and other data-gathering methods covered in this chapter is the way in which the researcher is involved in various sorts and levels of observation, gathering, and recording.
- This is what people are referring to with the term
field notes
; the means by which an observer/participant records what they see, experience, hear whilst there. After all these are not controlled experiments or standardized surveys, or even moderated focus groups. We are in a field, with others, engaging and being exposed to a range of interactions. This applies to online settings as well, albeit in different forms and with different sorts of incarnations (i.e. an avatar, a digital footprint, a hyperlinked set of relationships, texts and photos) and effects.
- The main point is
keep a record
. Decide beforehand in what form: handwritten notes? On your laptop? Taped/video diaries? Which means are the most unobtrusive? Consider this.
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- What sorts of records? There are many places for advice on this matter (see Berg 2009 for instance, Paccagnella 1997, Miller and Slater 2000). However, the key thing is to note down anything you think is worth recalling. Why? Because you
will
forget; our memories for times, dates, places, who said what, get hazy over time.
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As you write up the fieldwork the scholarly side of things starts to matter: transparency, precision, and an eye for detail are no good if you have forgotten key dates, places, or locations. These include
- maps (where people sit, how a place looks, for websites what the key features are, and what changes);
- dates, start times, moments of change or tension;
- impressions – these are distinct from recording (in note form or otherwise – with permission); for example, I usually square-bracket impressions I have of proceedings to differentiate later between these (personal responses) and what went on;
- names, positions, kinship structures, or other hierarchies can also be recorded in graphic or textual form;
- interviews, and other sorts of formalized data-gathering require a clear demarcation;
- counting: for qualitatively minded participant-observers, knowing how many (for example, registered on a listserv, in a community) is invaluable.
There are any number of ways to keep field notes but the main thing is to be consistent and set up an approach that works for you, and is suited to the context. Also, be aware that these ways of keeping notes and what you note will also develop over time.
Finally: how to keep your bearings when conducting work that involves multi-sited fields? For example, between online and offline meetings of a community, or for groups who move around the world. As George Marcus, and others note, the notion of the local has been largely offset (arguably) by global geographies; for example, migratory patterns, communities who travel between locations (e.g. athletes, activists, business people). What if your field is both digital, as in web-mediated, and traditional (face-to-face)?
- The first thing to be clear about is the research question and its relationship with you chosen object of analysis. In other words, as today much ethnographically inspired research is less about a full ethnographic study (for example, of a village, a tribe, a subculture) you need to ascertain an anchor point. Sometimes this is singular, clear from the outset. Sometimes though this anchor (for example, a particular file-sharing community) can prove to be more complex, more multidimensional than envisaged. Here, note where you start, and note where you end up and where you change focus.
- More consciously though, having established your initial parameters – another reason why pilot research, and even fully developed pilot studies are worth their while, there is an approach put forward by George Marcus for just these occasions. His is a six-point schematic for research inquiries that defines ‘their objects of study through several modes or techniques’ (Marcus 1995: 106). He sees these as baselines that can be ‘preplanned or opportunistic’ (ibid.):
- Follow the people
- Follow the thing
- Follow the metaphor
- Follow the plot, story, allegory
- Follow the life or biography
- Follow the conflict. (Marcus 1995: 106–12)
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Exits and returns – afterwards
The key point here is that ethnographic research entails a commitment of time from both the researcher and research subjects. The researcher in a sense becomes part of that community for the duration of the fieldwork, and in many cases this relationship is continued or maintained throughout a career, if not a lifetime. For non-anthropologists though this mutuality can be overlooked.
- For student researchers embarking in fieldwork participant-observation for lengths of time, sending regular reports back to their supervisors is a useful way to sift and shift all these notes up a level of abstraction. Once back, these observations need to be reactivated, and then incorporated into an analytical (rather than a stream of consciousness) account in various ways.
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- Once exiting for the purposes of writing up the findings for the project on hand, as with interviews, gratitude and interaction with those you have worked with afterwards go a long way.
- If access was granted on the basis of people being able to view your results, check your use of their words, then follow though.
- Even for shorter projects, it is a good idea to revisit, if feasible, or get in touch with key people as you finalize the work. The depth of analysis, and nuances of the report can greatly benefit, at the very least, from being up to date. In online settings where things change quickly, this is even more important.
- The main factor afterwards is what to do with all those notes: impressions, accounts, photos, details. This is where we enter the analysis and writing-up
phase; the lion’s share of the work for all the approaches covered here (see
Chapters 7
and
8
).
- One preliminary here is on returning to ‘base’ to readdress the research question, your aims and objectives in light of the fieldwork; this may be in the form of a report (for yourself, or supervisor) or a revised methodological chapter.
Whilst many of the practicalities above are things a researcher learns as they go, there are some that require preplanning, or commitment before you enter. Others can be adjusted as you go, for example, interviews or observational points developed as their significance arises. Preparation, awareness, and spontaneity go hand-in-hand in ethnographic research. For these reasons, there are some particular methodological issues to bear in mind.