About karenoreilly

Karen is Emeritus Professor of Sociology at Loughborough University, Senior Researcher at Goldsmiths, University of London, and a freelance Social Research Trainer. She has recently started to make jewellery in her spare time (haha). She is driven by the desire to share her love of ethnography, of social research, and now of jewellery making. She also does a little bit of crocheting of soft toys...

Peer Review is hampering our ability to be topical

Peer reviewed journal publication is becoming anachronistic at the same time as it remains the gold standard. Something needs to change with respect to publication potential for academics in the UK.Peer reviewed journals are still the most sought after output, and rightly so.But the reviewing process can easily take a year from submission to publication, and that is often only the online version. Publication can take two years for the print version. One can wait six months or more to be rejected and then have to start the whole process all over again.Reviewers are exhausted and increasingly find it difficult to find the time to do this unpaid labour.It is virtually impossible now to submit work anonymously when one can easily type a few words in a search engine and find who is working on what.It is impossible to write in a timely manner. The world has changed before the paper has been reviewed.It is impossible to contribute to ongoing debates when the conversation has altered so much by the time you get to make your contribution.But, this seems to be the only avenue we have got for peer reviewed publications. Blogs, podcast, newspaper articles, and other types of output I’ll become increasingly common, adding to see academics work and yet there is deservedly a lot of anxiety when it comes to citing these in subsequent papers.If the point of academic research is so that lessons can be learned for the future then something needs to change.I can understand why the term academic is often taken to imply meaningless, abstract, useless. What is the solution?

Thinking about Practice theories again

For much of my career, I have been at pains to point out how (not only that) structure and agency interact over time in the shaping of social life. 

My focus has been on migration, mainly British emigration, but I have always argued, as an ethnographer, that migrants’ lives in all their richness and complexity should be our focus. I have always wanted to avoid a problem-focused approach to migration. In The British on the Costa del Sol (2000) I made it clear I was not trying to understand a problem, but was hoping to unravel some of the webs of meaning within which British in Spain were suspended (p16). 

In later years, I have more and more drawn from practice theories to understand processes. But my approach is not only about examining the minutiae of daily practices. I include structuration theory as a practice theory (as Giddens himself indeed called it). 

The key thing about practice theories is that they attempt to explicate (unravel, explain, detail) how wider structures are made and remade every day, through the practice of agency. 

 Explanation and Practice Theories 

This approach can offer explanation of outcomes. In the final chapter of International Labour Migration to Europe’s Rural Regions, Johan Fredrik Rye and I (2021) wanted to explain “the ongoing exploitation, the perpetual reproduction and augmentation of labour arrangements that are asymmetric in terms of power relations, working conditions, and outcomes” (p230). 

Our approach offers a coherent interpretation of empirical data. It is multiscalar and multidimensional. It incorporates time, change and action, as well as how structures and reproduced. 

So, we discuss (for example): how “an increasing reliance on temporary migrant labour has become an integral and taken for granted characteristic of rural industries in western societies” and how this “reliance is often ideologically framed in a positive vein” (p232). We note the “increasing levels of polarisation, competition and exploitation of workers” (p233) in agriculture across Europe and the diverse and constantly changing labour market regimes that permit these situations to persist. 

These “structures are supported by cultural and ideological frames that work to fortify them” (p235). So, employers, rather than address the exploitation, celebrate what they are able to offer that is comparatively good. Some even draw on an “imagined backwardness that serves to assert a sort of … superiority over the work” (p236, and see Chapter 5 by Farinella and Nori). Further, attempts to do things differently are constrained by the fact of global economic and legal forces. 

Some migrants have a migrant habitus. “In other words, where migrants go … and how they assume life will be when they get there… is shaped by their own and others’ experiences, and the stories and discourses that frame those experiences”. (p237). Over time, and despite attempts to do things differently and to live according to their desires, “they come to accommodate to the demanding nature of their working and home lives. In other words, they develop identities that are coherent with, and even reinforce the ‘normalisation of, the conditions within which they find themselves” (p238). 

Migrants and employers thus both act somewhat in accordance with their expectations and reproduce existing conditions through their practices/actions. The structures are internalised, embodied and enacted. 

 The role of the state

In Lifestyle Migration and Colonial Traces in Malaysia and Panama, Michaela Benson and I (2018) also draw from practice theories to retrace the interplay between migrants’ ground level practices and the postcolonial heritage and current neoliberal policies in these countries. Here we contend that the governance of migration is a social process that emerges over time. It is creative and dynamic, and shaped through the practices of diverse agents. Chapter Four “reveals how deep-seated historical attitudes inform the reproduction of long-established structural inequalities, but also how, enacted by agents of state as well as migrants themselves, practices of governance develop and change shape” (p111-112)

 TBC……. I am still thinking 

Two exciting new things

I’m working on a new project. it is called Picking for Britain, and it Examines the experiences of agricultural employers and British harvest workers during the COVID-19 crisis and beyond https://www.glos.ac.uk/academic-schools/natural-and-social-sciences/Pages/picking-for-britain.aspx

And I am now a a member of the Standing Review Board of the Research Grants Council and University Grants Committee, Hong Kong (2021- 2022)

How do you DO reflexivity? See this open access article

Michaela Benson and I have had this article published in Qualitative Research. Here is the full reference:

Reflexivity as Practice

Benson, M. and O’Reilly, K. (2020) Reflexive Practice in Live Sociology: Lessons fromresearching Brexit in the lives of British Citizens living in the EU-27Qualitative Research

And here is the abstract:

This paper brings reflexivity into conversation with debates about positionality and live sociology to argue for reflexivity to be reimagined as an enduring practice that is collaborative, responsible, iterative, engaged, agile, and creative. We elaborate our argument with reference to examples and contemplations drawn from our experiences researching what Brexit means for Britons living in the EU27 for the BrExpats research project, which was informed from the outset by reflexive practice. We outline three (of a number of) potential strategies for engaging in reflexive practice: reflexive positioning, reflexive navigating, and reflexive interpreting or sense-making. We acknowledge that these are not separate actions in practice but are conceptually distinguishable aspects of an ongoing reflexive practice, informed by our 

International Labour Migration to Europe’s Rural Regions

New book, just published and available open access: https://www.taylorfrancis.com/books/e/9781003022367

The Covid-19 pandemic has demonstrated the vulnerabilities of Europe’s food system and its strong dependency on hundreds of thousands of migrant workers who travel into and across Europe to work in the fields and food processing industries to ensure the provision of our basic needs

The pandemic has also unveiled the exploitative work conditions many of these migrants face and the price they pay to maintain the safe production of food for Europe’s population. Conditions include poor wage and working conditions, insecure employment, and sub-standard housing arrangements. Many face a challenging way of life, constantly on the move between home country and workplaces, separated from their families, and socially excluded abroad. 

In the newly launched book International labour migration to Europe’s rural regions the lives of migrants are portrayed in rich and complex detail to give new insights into our food system and how those sowing, nursing and harvesting the food on our tables experience their work in the fields and food factories, as well their relationships to the rural communities in which they live and work. 

The book provides renewed analyses of diverse aspects of the labour migration phenomenon, including how the use of migrants is perceived by employers, policy makers and the general public – and thus, how the increasing reliance on migrant workers has the potential to transform both rural industries and communities. 

Combined, the book’s 25 authors cover a vast range of Europe’s rural regions and diverse types of rural labour in areas such as horticulture, shepherding, wild berry picking, and fish processing. These are insights that will be more important than ever as Europe strives to get back to the  ‘new normal’ after the Covid- 19 pandemic. The volume will be of interest to policy makers at local, regional, national and European levels, and scholars and students in a broad range of areas, including  migration, labour markets, and rural studies. 

The volume is published Open Access by Routledge and can be accessed here:


For further information, contact book editors Johan Fredrik Rye (johan.fredrik.rye@ntnu.no, + 47 99 27 30 88) and Karen O’Reilly (k.oreilly@lnoro.ac.uk, + 44 77 38 28 38 91), or authors of separate chapters. 

How to evaluate qualitative research

People on my qualitative methods training courses often ask me how they can demonstrate the value of qualitative research when it appears to be so subjective or anecdotal, small scale or not generalisable. Well I have many and varied answers to this, but in this blog post I will focus on just a few. I have a feeling I will return to this at a later date. 

I want to start by saying it makes much more sense to evaluate qualitative research based on what it set out to achieve rather than criteria imported from another approach. So, if you are pondering this yourself too, then I would go back to the beginning and ask yourself ‘why did I choose qualitative methods? What was I hoping to achieve?’ Or ‘why did my client ask us to do qualitative research? What did they hope for as an outcome?’ When working with external clients it is always a good idea to start by clarifying their goals, so that if they ask if your results are statistically representative or objective you can remind them of your goals at the outset, and the true value of qualitative research. 

I also want to emphasis, right here, right now, that qualitative research is useful, practical, and able to inform actions.But how did I get to that point? 

In qualitative research surprise and relevance go hand in hand

Qualitative research has the potential to reveal deep insights that come to researchers as a bit of a surprise, or a bit left field. Often, these insights show that the research designers were asking the wrong questions in the first place, or had based their initial questions on some misunderstandings. If we really listen to people, and hear them, allowing our questions and preconceptions to be challenged, we not only understand them better but work together towards better, more relevant, solutions.

Here is one example. Anand Menon and Matthew Bevington in collaboration with the Joseph Rowntree Foundation conducted a few workshops (we might call them focus groups) with low income voters in order to tap into what Brexit means to people three years after the referendum. They unsurprisingly found a frustration with politics and politicians, feelings of being let down, of anger and betrayal. But as they continued to talk to people, they found that what unites them, what they really want to talk about passionately, is their local areas, local needs, and even some fairly straight-forward local solutions. Menon and Bevington argue “So while Westminster contorts over extra runways at Heathrow and high-speed train lines to London, it risks missing the bigger picture: many, perhaps most, poorer areas lack even the simple provisions that would allow them to succeed….Brexit has confirmed low-income voters’ worst fears about politicians. They see a litany of issues that need addressing in their local areas, and yet they sense there are no resources or political will to do anything about them.” 

These are findings that are exciting, interesting, meaningful, rich, and contextual, and what is more, they are findings that, if there is a will, we could actually do something with! This is because the researchers listened, heard, and therefore achieved relevant understandings of complex situations in people’s daily lives. 

Qualitative research is rich and contextual,enabling understandings to be acted on in a way that would be useful. The point of qualitative research is not merely to identify relationships between actions, behaviours or perceptions, as in a survey, but to look more deeply into how things relate in what ways over time and under what conditions. this leads to the use of words such as nuance, richness, depth, detail.

Qualitative research is sensitive

It is often argued that qualitative research is useful for sensitive topics,or issues that are difficult to talk about. Why is this of value? 

Let’s look at another example. Kate Reed, Elspeth Whitby and Julie Ellis used ethnographic methods to explore practices around infant post-mortems. They followed hospital staff as they went about their work, and interviewed staff and parents, and uncovered all sorts of caring acts such as bathing, dressing and talking to babies that meant the whole process could be far more meaningful and gentle than might be imagined. Their research led to changes in professional training and information sheets for parents that led quickly to increased take-up of minimally-invasive post-mortems in Sheffield, where the research took place. 

The research is meaningful, insightful, and revealing of the things people sometimes do without even realising they do it. It touches on issues of love and care, and is sensitive to emotions. But these alone are not of value. The added value comes in at the point of practical and useful applications of these insights; applications (or implementations) that have a chance of working because, first, the qualitative researchers took their time to listen, to hear, and to observe

Qualitative research is responsive

To take the ideas above just a little further, qualitative researchers learn as we go and we develop our ideas as people talk to us, as we observe practices, and as come to understand. This means we are better equipped to question our own biases. Indeed, I would argue that qualitative research can be less subjective than research that determines the definition of the problem, the questions to be asked and the order in which to ask them before starting to even engage with participants. Arguably qualitative research is objective in its desire to understand the human world in all its diversity and without prejudice. This does involve working with participants to achieve a shared understanding of a situation. But is trying to remain detached, refusing to engage or respond, trying to extract difficult and sensitive responses without any reciprocation actually any more objective? Where does that leave our definition of ‘objectivity’? I think I am going to have to come back to this one….

To conclude for now: we often talk about qualitative research as meaningful, focused on understandings, interested in emotions and experiences. We call it exploratory, giving insights into lived experience, or examining the standpoint of the research participant. But I would argue these amount to its values. 

Qualitative research is OF VALUE because, when it does all these things well, the insights produced (or the results, findings, or conclusions) are far more likely to lead to actions, interventions, recommendations, that are likely to work in practice. And this is the case, even where the only intervention we can come up with is to understand people better rather than condemn, criticise or wonder at them. 

Qualitative research: producing understandings and insights rather than ‘findings’

I’ve been feeling a bit frustrated lately because of the number of times people have asked us what are the findings of our Brexit Brits abroad project.
We have produced podcasts, government reports, policy reports, academic papers, accessible reports, infographics, and even an animation. We comment on Twitter, Facebook, and communicate regularly and personally with our participants. We’ve presented at academic seminars, at policy roundtables, and we have a very dynamic website.
Those asking this question usually know this, or can find it out by looking at the website.
Similarly, when I teach qualitative research, I am often asked the best way to produce valid findings. I am starting to think that people have different understandings of this word findings.
So, let’s clarify.
The goal of qualitative research is to understand people’s actions and behaviours in the context of the ways in which they perceive and experience the world. We often begin by examining their desires, meanings and motivations. For some , the goal is to go further and to critically analyse these understandings with reference to wider structures of power and control.
The outcome of qualitative research would thus be better understood in terms of insights, understandings, and critical analyses. This is the shape our findings take.
I think the word findings is better suited to research that is more problem focused, research that is looking for a simply-understood and linear explanation of cause, effect, and solutions.
This is not to suggest that qualitative research cannot provide understandings of causes, effects and solutions. Instead I argue that the relationship between factors and outcomes in social life is complex and ultimately unpredictable. Nevertheless, the closer we get to understanding humans and their actions, in the context of the choices that are available to them, the closer we can get to suggesting interventions that might actually work in practice.

What is the value of an anecdote?

Last week, at the end of a long day training in the art of qualitative interviewing, one of the course participants asked me: ‘but how can we show it is not just all anecdotal?’. I felt frustrated, to say the least, but I must have failed somewhere in my explanations of the value of a qualitative interview. 

pinterest-441-anecdoteAntidoteThere is such a lot of angst about how to assess the value of qualitative research that still, it seems, we haven’t fully addressed this. In my experience, the problem often seems to come from the fact that people doing qualitative research feel they need to explain why they don’t do certain things – like testing for reliability, representativeness, and validity. 

How do we know quantitative work is good quality? How many people have actually asked to see all the questionnaires, and checked them all? How often is the basic operationalising of a concept or the choice of potential responses queried? How do we know the design of questions is not anecdotal? 

It seems to me that qualitative researchers need to 1) stop being defensive and 2) recognise what they aim to achieve, before 3) thinking about how to show they’ve achieved it. 

Let’s start with the notion of an anecdote. 

It is anecdotal that every week my neighbour puts her bin out near my car and it is not always easily visible. So, every week, I check before getting in the car to ensure I don’t drive over it (again). My experience has affected my behaviour, and it works in practice! 

This is the same logic we use for qualitative research. We are trying to understand how people’s experiences and understandings affect (or might affect) their behaviour. I can’t design a survey to test for this because I won’t know what questions to ask, or responses to suggest. It is irrelevant whether the experience or understanding is an anecdote or not. It is how the person’s life is shaped by experience and how they communicate that, that matters. 

Furthermore, if by anecdote we mean something said quickly and flippantly without depth, then one thing we should be ensuring as qualitative researchers is that we explore in depth what people tell us, by listening and hearing, and working to achieve complexity, nuance, and richness (and perhaps doubt and ambivalence).

Disembodied quotes and writing qualitatively

A plea to include the people, stories, and lives in qualitative research writing, and to avoid Disembodied Quotes

When I am delivering Research Methods Training, I often ask participants to please try to avoid using disembodied quotes when writing up, or presenting. I thought it was time I clarified what I mean by this, as it is not written anywhere (to my knowledge). By disembodied quotes I mean this sort of thing: 

One of the themes that emerged in the study was that research participants felt the GPs were using terminology they couldn’t understand, and they often felt both embarrassed to ask for clarification, and pressed for time. 

“I always feel the doctor is in a rush, so when she told me I’ve got xxx, I didn’t want to ask what she meant. I know the answer would take a long time and I still not might understand” (woman, 40s).

This is OK. It is clear what is going on here, but it lacks richness, context, and personality. We learn very little about this woman who is speaking, and she doesn’t even have a name. Compare it with this. 

Research participants were reluctant to ask questions when they felt their lack of understanding was vast, or when they believed the GP was under a lot of pressure with regards to time. Sophie, a mother of two in her 40s, had visited her GP for her own health (as opposed to taking her children) for the first time in ten years . She was very anxious about her symptoms, and had tried to look them up on the internet but had felt even more confused. Her appointment was the last one in the morning, the surgery was empty apart from herself and one other person, and the GP, Sophie told me, looked frazzled and tired. Under such conditions, she didn’t feel she could ask the questions she needed to. Sophie told me,

“I always feel the doctor is in a rush, so when she told me I’ve got xxx, I didn’t want to ask what she meant. I know the answer would take a long time and I still not might understand” (Sophie, 40s, mother of two children).

This uses many more words but if the point is to help GPs understand what meanings and understandings patients bring to the interaction, then it has done a much better job than the shorter introduction to the quote, above.

Also, when people use the disembodied quotes approach they usually follow an explanation with a series of quotes, as if they are trying to show how important this insight is quantitatively. So, the word count may well end up the same, but without the richness and context. 

This desire to demonstrate the quantity of a response illustrates a basic misunderstanding of the value of qualitative research, which is to reveal meaningful insights that can be acted on to improve society.