From ignorance to familiarity: Contextual knowledge and the field researcher

Abstract

When reading a submitted article, I am often struck by the apparent omniscience of the authors with regard to the context where they undertake their research. However, the origins of this omniscience are seldom explained: researchers insouciantly describe what they did and how they did it, yet ignore their own preparation for the research and the process that they followed to acquire relevant knowledge. For instance, an author who has undertaken a case study, action research or ethnography seldom troubles to explain in any detail either how s/he gained access to the research site, or how s/he acquired sufficient knowledge of the context to be able to interact meaningfully with its inhabitants. I suggest that these are important considerations, for the researcher and for readers: not only does the context matter, but so too does the acquisition of context-specific knowledge by the researchers (Davison & Martinsons, 2016). There may be a number of reasons for this lack of explanation, among which are the reluctance to ‘waste’ space on these details and the failure to appreciate that readers might find it useful. If the review team does not request this information, it may never be provided. When a researcher has extensive emic knowledge of and familiarity with the context and the practices of its inhabitants, then these may be regarded as self-evident and not worthy of a detailed treatment. However, as a reader who can only see the world through the eyes of the researcher, I would greatly appreciate learning exactly what the researcher did, not only when in the field but also before entering the field. Tong, Sainsbury, and Craig (2007) suggest 32 criteria for reporting qualitative research, several of which are germane to this discussion. For instance, ‘What experience or training did the researcher have?’ and ‘What characteristics were reported about the interviewer?’. Reporting all 32 criteria may seem excessive: instead, a few lines may suffice so long as they do help the reader to understand the preparation of the researcher. For instance, Thompson (2002) reported how his first task in the field was to obtain ‘a high-level understanding of the reporting process across several clinics’. Meanwhile, Shah, Eardley, and Wood-Harper (2007) reported that ‘the first author spent a considerable amount of time building up knowledge of the organisation’. But even such modest accounts are few and far between. In this editorial, I suggest that there is a need for a new reporting standard regarding the way in which researchers present how they develop their knowledge of the field. Chughtai and Myers (2017) examine the specific case of the ethnographer who is preparing to enter the field in which she or he will spend a considerable period of time. They write at length about the activities that field researchers may undertake before they attempt entry to a field site. A key activity is developing ‘some understanding of the world where she is to be thrown’. The notion of being thrown refers to Heidegger's (2011) concept of ‘thrownness’, that is, ‘the [spatial] state one finds oneself in’ (Chughtai & Myers, 2017). They explain that this pre-entry development of context-specific knowledge will ensure that, on arrival, the researcher can have sensible conversations with the indigenous inhabitants of the field. While the ability to engage in those conversations may reflect the background knowledge that the researcher has acquired over many years, it also reflects the more recently acquired knowledge that is predicted to be useful. However, all those preparations that the field researcher makes in advance, all the knowledge developed, may come to naught. Descola (1996) lamented his own situation when engaged in anthropological research in Ecuador. In preparation for entry to the field, he had spent many years acquiring knowledge relating to method and theory. Closer to the time of entry, he had planned his own research techniques with meticulous care. But one key area of knowledge was not accorded sufficient attention: language. It is important to observe that language can be considered in two different ways, each relevant to the current situation. First, language incorporates a set of lexical, grammatical and syntactical rules. Interlocutors who adhere to these rules can create and share specific meanings with each other. Second, language functions as a way of being (Heidegger, 1962). It relates to a shared symbolic understanding about the logic that underpins how things are done in a particular context (Fultner, 2013). Even if an ethnographer understands the lexical, grammatical and syntactical rules of a language, s/he may not be competent to gain deep insights about the specific field being explored, unless s/he has already developed some degree of familiarity with the way language is used in the context, that is, the pragmatics of the linguistic context (cf. Davison & Martinsons, 2016). As Heidegger (1962, p.208) suggests, ‘only he who already understands can listen’. Thus, researchers need to understand both the rules of a language and the shared symbolic understanding that is achieved through language in order to become sufficiently familiar with the field and then to study it. Thus, armed with an inadequate dictionary and with no translator to hand, Descola (1996) relates how he stumblingly asked simple questions about artefacts. His informants proved only too willing to answer his questions, overwhelming him with a torrent of information, most of which was utterly incomprehensible. Lexically, he lacked the vocabulary. Grammatically and syntactically, he was unfamiliar with the structures. Finally, and most importantly, his contextual lack of familiarity meant that even if, by some miracle, he could understand the literal meaning of the words, he would not understand the pragmatics of the social and historical context wherein the words had a shared and symbolic meaning for the local inhabitants. He then ruefully recalled how his own supervisor had advised him not to prepare all his techniques in advance (presumably knowing that they would be of little value), instead suggesting that he ‘adapt to the lie of the land’ when he arrived. Given the infinite variety of circumstances that may arise, and the impossibility of preparing for such a largesse of possibilities, this may seem sound advice, yet it seems to be human nature to pre-empt some of the risks associated with uncertainty and thus to make some attempt to prepare in advance. Learning the rules of the language is a good start, but learning about the context requires personal experience, considerable time and a very open mind. Information Systems researchers who engage in field research may also feel the need to prepare carefully before they enter the field, as they move from an etic (outside) to an emic (inside) perspective. This preparation may reasonably include both knowledge related to the research context and, where appropriate, language. But it is important that the researcher does not succumb to delusions of confidence. Although the researcher may usefully develop some context-specific awareness of the field site and the people who live in it, it is dangerous to imagine that all possibilities can be predicted. The researcher is normally an outsider to the research context and thus is rarely familiar with the world of the research subjects. Increasing familiarity requires that the researcher becomes enmeshed in the everyday pragmatic practices of the field. Few researchers ever approach true insider status. A lack of familiarity may be more obvious in junior researchers such as PhD students, but more experienced researchers can also be surprised. As Descola (1996) experienced, one consequence of ignorance is that the newly arrived researcher may be unable to glean more than a rudimentary understanding of what is happening, barely engaging in useful conversations. In an ethnographic study that is planned to extend over many months or years there may be time enough to learn. But if time is tight then it will quickly disappear: the researcher needs to know enough to be able to hit the ground running. Language acquisition is one of the more crucial skills to develop. Even if you speak the same (human) language (English, Cantonese, Shuar, Tok Pisin, etc.), you may not understand what is being communicated if there is a significant lexicon of words that are used in unfamiliar ways, jargon, abbreviations or other neologisms that are familiar to the initiated and alien to everyone else. These all contribute to how the language is practiced in a particular social context and are central to a deeper familiarity of the context wherein one is thrown. I experienced precisely the same situation myself (see Wong & Davison, 2018), in a recent action research project in a global logistics firm. Neither of the authors had any prior experience of global logistics, though this kind of knowledge can be acquired from the professional literature and press accounts. We were not familiar with the nature of work, the organisation or the language they used. In our earliest meetings with the firm, which were primarily with the project champion and colleagues, we were acutely conscious of our ignorance and thus of our need to learn fast. When we eventually entered the field, interviewing employees and organising seminars, we found that we had learned enough to have useful conversations at a functional level. However, the physical location of the firm in China complicated the situation further: although the employees all used English on a daily basis because they had to interact with a variety of international customers, they also communicated extensively in several Chinese spoken languages (Mandarin, Cantonese, Shanghainese, etc.). Before attempting a formal diagnosis of the organisational situation, we embarked on an ‘extended pre-diagnostic phase in order to develop sufficient understanding of the various nuances of the context to persuade all stakeholders to accept our involvement. These nuances covered both linguistic issues, such as the technical vocabulary used by employees, and sociological issues, such as employee-manager relations' (Wong & Davison, 2018). However, looking back at that action research project, I now realise how much more information we could have included about our own preparation for entering the field, as well as the modifications that we made subsequently. Earlier, I suggested the need for a new reporting standard that would encourage researchers to report more details of their knowledge development process. I suggest that this is a topic to be covered under methodology: how did the researcher prepare before entering the field? The description may only extend to a few sentences with details that document preparatory actions, as well as modifications that were undertaken when thrown into the field. The researcher can then demonstrate how s/he had sufficient knowledge to be able to conduct useful conversations and thus to make sense of the field context. A reflective account could also indicate which prior knowledge turned out to be of little value. If carefully presented, this could go a long way to help readers of the article appreciate what they may need to do when it is their turn to be thrown into the field. If the word limit does not allow for this information to be included in the methods section, then a more extensive exposition could be provided in an appendix. As researchers, we all have background knowledge and experience. We understand our research methods and thus possess some degree of competence. But that competence is never absolute: we move towards it from a state of ignorance. The process of learning about context is something that we all need to do, and it is a process worth documenting. Including it in the write-up of a research article will surely enhance the sensemaking of the reader and perhaps facilitate future research as well. In this first issue of volume 31, we publish eight articles. In the first article, Lee, Keil, and Wong (2021) note that when faced with a decision of whether or not to continue a troubled project, IT project managers often choose to continue the project, a phenomenon referred to as IT project escalation. Despite the advances made in understanding IT project escalation, industry reports indicate that IT projects continue to experience significant cost and schedule overruns suggesting that the problem has not yet been solved. The authors offer a fresh explanation of IT project escalation, suggesting that projects managed by people who have a growth mindset are more likely to experience IT project escalation. This is because project managers who have a growth mindset tend to be more optimistic about successfully completing a troubled project and less likely to regret about continuing with a troubled project. The authors also demonstrate that the effect of an IT project manager's growth mindset on IT project escalation is stronger when a project involves an unfamiliar technology. In the second article, Lee, Cheung, and Chan (2021) examine massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG) addiction through the hedonic management model of addiction and the technology affordance perspective. The authors show that both perceived positive mood enhancement and perceived negative mood reduction are positively correlated with the extent of MMORPG addiction. Furthermore, achievement and immersion affordances are positively associated with the duality of hedonic effects, whereas social affordance is not. The study contributes to the growing body of technology addiction literature by revealing the relationships between the two hedonic effects and the extent of MMORPG addiction, and by offering a contextualized explanation of the role of MMORPG affordances in these relationships. It offers an alternative perspective on the far-reaching, unintended relationships between technological affordances and addictive technology use. It also provides game developers and policymakers with insights into preventing MMORPG addiction as they create an entertaining and healthy virtual playground. In the third article, Asatiani, Hämäläinen, Penttinen, and Rossi (2021) study how a rapidly growing, virtual organisation manages to synthesize both symbolic and pragmatic components of organizational culture in the absence of regular face-to-face socialization. The authors report on an action design research study undertaken at Smartly.io where an informational artefact was built in the form of a ‘living’ culture handbook, designed to serve as a substitute for face-to-face socialization. Drawing on empirical case data and research on knowledge management, organizational culture, organizational discontinuity, and participatory design, the authors derive three design principles for the creation of the artefact. In addition, the authors critically discuss the limitations of an informational artefact in compensating for the absence of face-to-face socialization, the theoretical contributions to organizational discontinuity theory, and a practice-oriented description of the design process. In the fourth article, Chamakiotis, Petrakaki, and Panteli (2021) explore how social value is created in the context of online health communities. They study MedicineAfrica, a digital platform that aims to provide online medical education to post-conflict states, such as Somaliland and Palestine, with fragile and under-resourced healthcare systems. Drawing on a sociological conceptualisation of digital activism, their study reveals that digital activism (in the form of philanthropic, moral and reciprocal activity) contributes to the creation of social value. They then explain that these forms of activism are technically and socially afforded through the platform's connective capacity and emerging collective practices, in tandem with its members' growing commitment, ultimately leading to the creation of three types of social value: cognitive, professional and epistemic. They advance IS literature by eliciting the mechanisms that lead to the creation of non-economic, social value in the context of online health communities and digital health. In the fifth article, Lee, Chou, and Chen (2021) explain that since contemporary software projects have the characteristics of uniqueness and volatility, development teams customize standard development processes and continue to make adjustments as needed. Adjusting software project development to respond to the variance and dynamics across the project is thus an important task, known as software process tailoring (SPT). For software teams, SPT is a challenging task as it requires intensive knowledge and determination in the modification of processes where team members are encouraged to challenge existing processes, to solicit opinions that may be unfavourable and conflictual, and to critique and/or accommodate one another as they strive to reach integrative and tailored solutions. The authors investigate software project teams' learning ability in order to advance our understanding of how three team-level learning antecedents, that is, experience, communication quality and trust, dynamically facilitate teams' absorptive capacity when they conduct SPT, which in turn reinforces project performance. The findings provide insights into both the SPT learning requirements to address unstable software development and how the three team-based learning factors facilitate distinct mediating effects of teams' absorptive capacity in conducting SPT. The authors also offer suggestions for how absorptive capacity and these team-based learning factors promote SPT performance, which in turn contributes to project performance. In the sixth article, Zeiss, Ixmeier, Recker, and Kranz (2021) draw attention to a circular economy (CE), an economic model for sustainable production and consumption that promises a gradual decoupling of economic activities from the consumption of finite virgin resources. While CE proponents have long lauded digital technologies, such as sensors or online platforms, as key enablers for a CE, the authors argue that the IS community has not yet explored the potential of IS for a CE. Through an interdisciplinary literature review, the authors suggest that although extant research has primarily examined IS potentials for increasing the efficiency of isolated intra-organizational processes, it has neglecting the larger sustainability potential of IS to establish circular material flows, that is, slowed-down and closed material loops across entire product lifecycles. The authors propose directions for IS research that will expand our knowledge of how IS can help us to understand and enact circular material flows that intensify and extend the use of products and components, and recycle waste materials. In the seventh article, Díaz Andrade and Techatassanasoontorn (2021) challenge the assumption that a digitally enabled society is desirable for all. This assumption labels non-use as a deficiency that needs to be remedied and frames Internet use as a necessity in a progressive society. The authors argue that this situation creates a new modality of inequality that they call digital enforcement, which is characterised as the process of dispossession that reduces choices for individuals who prefer to minimise their reliance on the Internet, if given the opportunity, or those who want to live their lives offline altogether. This process, which constitutes an ethical problem, is analysed through the concepts of governmentality and technologies of power. Drawing on the idea of democratisation of technology, the authors conclude with a call for an ethical agenda to develop desirable futures for all. In the eighth article, Wimelius, Mathiassen, Holmström, and Keil (2021) build on the premise that organizations must periodically renew their established digital platforms and infrastructures in order to maintain efficiency and remain competitive. The authors suggest that such technology renewal constitutes a distinct and increasingly important type of digital transformation. They adopt a paradoxical perspective to consolidate previously dispersed insights and conceptualize technology renewal as characterized and driven by specific paradoxical tensions. The authors combine these conceptual insights with empirical insights from a longitudinal case study to offer a conceptual frame to help managers of technology renewal initiatives understand how the deeper structures of tensions trigger manifestations of salient tensions at specific initiative junctures, and how different types of responses to these tensions can impact the continued trajectory and outcomes of a technology renewal initiative. I am grateful to the following colleagues for their trenchant observations on and critiques of this editorial during its composition: Marjolein van Offenbeek, Dimitra Petrakaki, Niki Panteli, Maris Martinsons, Michael Myers and Monideepa Tarafdar.