Theories that support this way of practicing
In recent years, the complexity sciences have thrown into question much of our thinking about how society works and how knowledge is created (Stacey, 2003). Instead of thinking of society and culture as a collection of things, i.e. people, organisations, job roles, information, the emphasis within complexity thinking is on relationships between things.
For example it understands culture as ‘not so much imposed on people from outside, as exposed from within’ (Seel, 2000). Culture is being created all the time by all of us. Therefore, by definition, it is fluid and always changing.
An important strand within complexity is that of emergence. This is one of those slippery terms. Academics find it hard to agree a definition. Broadly, it describes how larger patterns arise from local-level interactions. These patterns cannot be understood or predicted from the behaviour of the lower-level interactions alone. Neither can they be understood in a linear way, e.g. as cause and effect, the Newtonian clockwork world.
Weather is a classic example of a non-linear system in which many components interact in complex ways leading to notorious unpredictability, as are ecosystems, developing embryos and the brain, which defy mathematical analysis or simulation. Small, local interactions can lead to huge global changes (like the famous butterfly flapping its wings in Sussex leading to hurricanes in the Caribbean).
As Anthony Tasgal so nicely puts it, ‘Systems are doing it for themselves’ (Tasgal, 2003). Complexity thinking has already become incorporated into marketing speak, for example, viral marketing, tipping points, hubs.
Ironically, emergence, in the context of qualitative research, seems quite natural. The nature of our practice means that we are always exploring individuals in relation to others and their environment within the wider cultural context. The study of relationships is intrinsic to what we do. Qualitative inquiry, at best, is a process of ongoing learning which does not naturally lend itself to the rules and constraints that are common in Newtonian science.
Friction often arises when we attempt to impose Newtonian thinking on complexity-led emergence. Geoff Bayley (2006) illustrates this conflict very clearly in his analysis of the role of the discussion guide; torn as it is between a prescriptive Newtonian comfort blanket and an emergent tool for encouraging discussion.
Social constructionism
Social constructionism meshes neatly with complexity thinking. Its starting point is that we can never experience the world neutrally as, arguably, it really is. Instead, we interpret the world, each differently, through our own particular web of perspectives and experiences. We ‘construct’ it (Weick,1995).
We are, however, intrinsically social beings and construct our world through cultural parameters which we jointly shape and are shaped by. Anthropologist Mary Douglas describes this as “…the admonitions, excuses and moral judgements by which the people mutually coerce one another into conformity” (Douglas, 1985).
But, if we construct our world rather than merely observe what is out there, then it follows that knowledge too is constructed not discovered. This has obvious implications for qualitative research. The thought that we construct research findings may, initially, seem scary. In order to be accepted, however, these findings have to be plausible, coherent, reasonable, memorable, resonate with other people, be capable of being used prospectively and capture both feeling and thought (Weick, 1995). But we probably have to ditch the term findings.
Neuroscience
Neuroscience is blazing a trail, challenging our traditional perceptions of our rational and emotional selves. The Portuguese neuroscientist, Antonio Damasio (2000), offers a convincing explanation of how rationality and emotion work in tandem to allow us to make sense of the world. He suggests that rational thought uses a less evolved part of our brains than that involved in creative thinking.
Creative thinking, it seems, marks the pinnacle of brain evolution, so deserves a bit more respect than it often gets. Using our ‘whole body’ to engage with an experience – in conjunction with other people – means that our rationality, intuition, creativity and physiological responses are all part of the picture. At best they are aligned and working together. Objectivity and subjectivity become irrelevant. In this sense, we are acutely centred in the present, what Stacey (2002) calls the living present.
Qualitative researchers are very familiar with this whole body learning experience, in which the research process involves a sense of letting go, relinquishing control. It’s worth listening to Richard Seel when says “Do not try to answer the question; wait until the question answers itself.”
Drawing on the still fledgling complexity sciences, on social constructionism and neuroscience, we can start to develop a different theoretical understanding of qualitative practice which reflects what we really do as researchers. In the past, qualitative research has sat, sometimes uncomfortably, outside the scientific method. It has been defined as unscientific and criticised for its lack of rigour. I think it’s time to question these assumptions and re-examine where qualitative thinking fits in relation to science.
I believe that qualitative research is already alive and well in the
exploratory stages of classical science – and this should be
acknowledged, and, secondly, I believe it fits naturally within
complexity sciences and we could embrace the thinking from complexity to
strengthen our practice and the status of qualitative research.