Not just 'the usual suspects'

I'm not keen on that phrase. But I hear it so often. It's short hand for 'not many people responded to our consultation. Not many people ever respond to our consultations. It's only ever the same few people who respond'. But there's something negative, as if it's the fault of those few people for putting themselves forward.

At the same time, I often hear 'hard to reach'. And almost every time I hear it, or its siblings 'difficult to engage', 'seldom heard' and 'disengaged', it is being used to describe groups of people who are perceived as being difficult for organisations to get hold of or who resist joining the organisation's activities.

I'd like to argue that both types of phrase are used to locate problems with public engagement on the public. Often it's framed as the organisation needing to change because some groups of people have problems engaging. But even then, the people are seen as having a problem or barrier which the organisation has to overcome by adjusting their otherwise adequate way of consulting, so the problemnis still seen as located in that group of people. I hasten to add, this isn't always the case.some organisations realise they need to be inclusive, rather than start from a basis of being excluding and then needing to make adjustments for certain 'problem' groups.

I want to reframe the issue. If 98% of the population do not get involved in consultations on issues that affect their lives - and that they almost definitely discuss at home, down the pub, at the school gate or with friends over coffee -  then I think there is something fundamentally wrong with the organisation not the population.

That lies behind my PhD. And it lies behind my three minute explanation of my PhD. The 3MT (three minute thesis) is a game for academics that could be called 'Can you explain your PhD in three minutes using only six slides?'. If you have four minutes to spare (I added a title slide, explanation and spoke a bit slower for the YouTube version than when I presented it in public when I could wave my arms around and adjust speed based on audience body language), I'd be pleased if you chose to watch this https://youtu.be/LfEHzG79KJk

Transferable knowledge needs to be transferred

Want research impact? Work together as the people who will generate and use the research - from the start.

Want to improve services? Work together as people who commission, run and use the service - from the start.

Want to design a website or app? Work together as a team of creatives, coders, potential users - from the start.

Want policies that work? Work together as people who have a stake in what that policy says - from the start.

I'm sure you can spot at least one common theme (hopefully at least three). 

At the moment, frustratingly, people working in these spheres are developing their own language and methods within their own silos. There are fabulous insights and approaches that can be transferred from digital user design to participatory research. And many of the research impact questions have already been addressed in public engagement work.

So, here's my plea if you are trying to produce research that people will use, services or digital platforms that people like using or policies that deliver. Please explore what others are learning and see if you can transfer lessons they have learned or ways they are thinking to your own work.

A winning formula for abstracts

As a follow-up to yesterday's blog: 

I want to submit an abstract for a conference where the papers are published as a yearbook. As an insecure student, I thought I'd better read up on how to structure abstracts. I found plenty of advice on winning formulas. I was advised to frame it around key questions, or to 'complete the sentences' for a set of sentences that started with specific wordings, or to pick key words that would make the paper appear higher up the list when people use search engines.

 

Then I had a bright idea. I thought I'd (non-scientifically) analyse the abstracts from a previous year's book to see what their winning formula is before I got cracking on my abstract. Here's what I found...

Abstract 1

• Context
• This article will
• Key finding 

 

Abstract 2

• This paper is on the topic...
• More detail about the topic
• My claim

 

Abstract 3

• This article aims to explore
• It will focus..
• Key data
• This article concludes by

 

Abstract 4

• Framing
• Contention (nevertheless)
• Purpose of the research

 

Abstract 5

• This article is (content)
• The article explores
• This is an opportunity for me to

 

Abstract 6 

• Context
• This article (content)
• This article (source of data)
• Conclusion

 

Abstract 7

• It's about X research project
• Framing
• Key finding
• Contention

 

Abstract 8

• Explanation of title
• Why the topic is relevant
• In this article I will

 

Abstract 9

• It's about X research project
• The focus within that project

 

Abstract 10

• Context
• Importance of topic
• Questions that will be addressed in this article

If you can identify the winning formula from this lot, your brain must be wired in a different way from mine as I cannot spot a pattern. 

 

Conclusion: Be me. Don't follow a formula. Give readers the information I think will help them decide whether they want to read my article. As for the conference and publication, the idea will be worth publishing or it won't. 

Choosing my academic voice

The Thesis Whisperer gave a workshop on writing a paper in seven days at Bangor University back in 2015. She said “as academics, we are known by our writings”. That has stuck with me ever since.

 

I write for a profession. Or, more usually, I take other people’s writings and try to communicate the content to specific audiences. I am used to the idea of different voices for different audiences. I am used to thinking what other literature my audience might read – or whether they may prefer not to read at all and get their information from other sources. Having read them, I am used to mimicking that style of writing.

 

Ask me for a blog post, I can write one. Ask me for a magazine article, I can write one. Ask me for a formal response to a formal letter, I can write one. Ask me to write for people who use Easy Read, no problem. Ask me to write an academic paper, I…. I just can’t do it.

 

I need to unpick why. I need to unpick it urgently because yesterday (which has prompted these reflections) and tomorrow (for which I need to prepare) are paper-writing days with my supervisors.

 

So far, I’ve come up with four possible reasons that my mind freezes at the idea of ‘academic paper’.

1. I haven’t read enough papers to be able to identify and learn to mimic an academic voice that feels appropriate for me to use. I’ve spent more time reading books than papers. More significantly, I’m not sure enough where my approach sits within the rest of sociological research to work out what might be an ‘appropriate’ (to my mind) voice.
2. There is no single academic audience for my work. Within sociology there are many tones of voice and many audiences. It would be quite possible for me to adopt multiple voices. But - the words of The Thesis Whisperer come back to me. Do I want to be an academic chameleon, choosing a voice for an audience? If I am to be known to fellow academics by my writings, maybe I don’t want to adapt my writings to different academic audiences.
3. I am insecure. I struggle with calling myself an academic. I associate ‘being an academic’ with the style of writing I grew up with on a science degree in the 1980s. Specifically, I associate ‘being an academic’ with citing literature and making sure I have plenty of references. Negatively, I associate citing with hiding behind others, a way of justifying what I think – “look, it’s not me a PhD student saying it, the eminent X said it”. I am conflicted, therefore about adopting the literature-citing academic voice. I feel I should, because that’s what ‘proper academics’ do. I know I can’t (I don’t know enough of the literature to feel I can make a good job of it). I rebel at being forced to adopt that style – when in reality it is only me that is saying the literature-citing style is the only way of ‘being an academic’.  
4. I do want to write differently to an academic audience from general public audiences. I want to respect the wisdom and learning of fellow academics. But I still want to be me and sound like me.
5. I don’t know who I am academically yet. That’s certainly true. But I won’t find out by sitting silently. The best way forward is to try out different voices until I find the one that sounds most like me. Given nothing else about my life has been ‘off the shelf’, I doubt my academic voice will be an ‘off the shelf’ voice.

 

I’m glad I’ve blogged this. I’ve gone in a loop in two years since I blogged http://annecollis.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/as-academic-you-are-known-through-your.html. Then it was fear of writing a blog. Now it’s fear of writing a paper.

 

The act of blogging has helped me feel calmer about writing my first academic paper. It doesn’t need to be perfect. When I look back in 20 years time with my rich, lyrical voice, I may be embarrassed by its 2017 squeaky, out of tune tone. But that’s OK. Right now I just need to be brave, open my mouth and see what comes out.

The academic's muse

I think, reflect, observe, create. I do not know the literature. I have not learned patterns of thinking and ways to conceptualise the social world by reading the works of those who have gone before me in wondering about the social world. 

What value do I bring to academic life?

I bring the value of the muse. I sit and interact with those who know the literature and have engaged at a personal level with many of those who write. I bring an academically uninformed critique to academics, an alternative way of seeing the social world. As I grapple with reflecting on their learning, their citations, their 'that reminds me of...' as we talk about some thing of mutual interest, I begin to adopt the guise of an academic. But as yet it is a very shallow veneer.

I was bemused by an academic who felt only able to research 'her field' because that was her expertise. To me, she has much wider expertise, so much to say that can apply for other fields and other phenomena. But I think now that what she was saying is that her sense of expertise is conjoined with her knowledge of the literature and those currently producing literature. To her, I am her muse. If she were to apply herself to another field, she would become the muse to someone else.

I value the role of muse as a distinct and valid contribution to academic life and research. Without a muse, it is easy to become distanced from the social world beyond your office, and down that road lies stagnation.