Ethical considerations

Though the British Educational Research Association (BERA) offers a useful set of guidelines for undertaking educational research, I was aware from the outset that ethical issues can be more complex than simply following guidelines. It was important to me that I considered ethical issues carefully, rather than just paying ‘lip service’ (Levinson, 2010: 193) to them. I had to demonstrate to the University’s ethics committee that I had thoroughly considered ethical issues prior to embarking on the fieldwork part of the study. However, I was aware that this did not guarantee that I proceeded in an ethical manner. Instead I would agree that it is the ‘researcher’s personal

moral responsibility towards the participants in the research and the research setting’ (Paoletti, 2014: 274) that has the greatest influence on the manner in which research is undertaken.

4.6.5.1 The participants

My research was undertaken with adults, none of whom were ‘vulnerable’ in the sense described by BERA guidelines (2011: 6 – 7). Nevertheless, I was aware that some of the young adults might be considered vulnerable for other reasons: for example because of basic skills needs and poor levels of literacy; as care leavers; having low socio-economic status; being at risk of homelessness. This did not apply to all of my participants, but the fact it applied to some of them encouraged me to consider carefully issues of informed consent and their right to withdraw from the study.

4.6.5.2 Informed consent

Informed consent had to be agreed on a number of levels since, prior to meeting any potential participants, I had to gain the consent of the settings through which I accessed them. As mentioned above, it was not possible to negotiate access to settings where unemployed young adults received support services on a mandatory basis. On reflection, this may have been a positive outcome since I had concerns that young adults in mandatory settings would feel obliged to participate. Since the consequences of non- compliance in mandatory settings are benefit sanctions, I felt uncomfortable that some young adults might talk to me out of fear of financial repercussions (even though I was not connected to the organisation). Accessing young adults via mandatory providers might also have influenced what they were willing to discuss, particularly relating to undeclared or unofficial work. Whilst this is not in itself an ethical issue, the feelings of anxiety which might arise when discussing certain topics, is.

The approach that I took to accessing participants via services they could use on a voluntary basis was to initially make telephone contact with the

organisation. In most cases it was possible to speak directly with the decision maker and I was able to give an explanation of my research, what I hoped to achieve and the participants I hoped to have access to. The organisation that ran the Future Jobs Fund was then happy for me to arrange some dates to visit. After an initial conversation with the organisation delivering work on behalf of the Prince’s Trust, I was asked to put my request in writing summarising my research and my request for access. This was then forwarded to the individual staff members who were due to facilitate forthcoming ‘Team’ courses. It was their decision whether they thought it was appropriate for me to visit their group and to suggest suitable dates. I was impressed with this approach as it meant that facilitators were not pressurised to grant me access. They could also consider whether my presence would be detrimental to their group and dictate when in the course I visited. In total three different facilitators from the Prince’s Trust contacted me and arranged for me to visit.

Prior to visiting any settings, I prepared a statement in plain English that summarised my research, explained the type of things that I anticipated we would discuss, gave timescales for the research and indicated how long each interview would last. The statement also detailed how and with whom the data gathered would be shared. Mindful of BERA guidelines (2011: 6) in relation to openness and disclosure I was careful that the statement was an accurate reflection of my planned research. However, I was cautious not to give too much detail as I did not want the statement to restrict or influence our discussions. I was aware of debates around the issue of gaining informed consent for qualitative research that is emergent:

The inductive, emergent nature of qualitative research precludes researchers being able to predict where the study will take them. (Malone, 2003: 800)

Whilst I felt that my research might lead me in directions I had not anticipated, I believed it unlikely that this would significantly change how I would describe my research for the purposes of informed consent. Rather the ‘new directions’

were likely to be of more interest to me, the researcher, rather than to the participants.

I was concerned to ensure that the informed consent I received was ‘voluntary’ (BERA, 2011: 5). That is to say that the young adults did not feel pressurised to participate either by me, the organisation I accessed them through or by their peers. Hammersley and Traianou (2012) have written an interesting reflection on the BERA guidelines, problematising ethical issues of which the idea of voluntary or ‘free’ consent is one:

The idea of ‘free consent’ refers to the extent to which a person might be, or could feel under pressure to consent or for that matter to refuse consent. […] they may feel that their hand is forced to agree or disagree by someone who is an institutional position above them, or by their peer group, or by consideration for people for whom they feel a responsibility. (Hammersley and Traianou, 2012: 9)

Though I planned the approach I would take, I was aware that the organisations I was accessing the participants through would also influence how this was handled. When visiting the Prince’s Trust each of the facilitators took the same approach, asking me to arrive during a break in the course when all the participants were sitting and relaxing. They introduced me and I then explained verbally to the group who I was, the aims of my research and who I hoped to talk to. I invited the group to ask questions and then anyone who was interested gave me their first name. The facilitators all reiterated to the group that participation was voluntary and that it was unconnected to the course they were participating in. It was useful that a person whom they had built rapport with and whom they might view as being in authority emphasised the voluntary nature of participation. However, I was mindful that peer pressure might incentivise or discourage participation, but could not see a way of avoiding this. Instead, as I met with each participant individually to undertake the interview I talked through the statement I had written about my research whilst they read it. I then offered the chance for individual questions and talked through the consent form. This way I felt all participants had the

opportunity to change their minds and withdraw, and that those with poor levels of literacy understood what they were consenting to.

The approach taken by the provider of the Future Jobs Fund was notably different. The Manager had identified which young adults were eligible in terms of age and length of unemployment, and had let them know about the research. When I arrived, she let me know who they were and left me to talk to them on a one-to-one basis. I followed the steps described above to gain their consent to participate, feeling confident that they were properly informed and given the opportunity to withdraw at this stage. However, I was mindful that I did not know how the Manager had described the research, or whether they felt pressurised to participate. For some of them it was their first day in a government funded work placement and I was wary that they might feel obliged to participate, or that the interview might add to the pressure of being in a new setting. On reflection, though, I did not feel that this was the case since the participants seemed relaxed speaking to me and the initial interviews generally lasted longer than with the Prince’s Trust participants.

Undertaking a longitudinal study, informed consent and the right to withdraw were areas that had to be renegotiated throughout the research process. However, I felt that there was far less pressure on participants to participate in second and third-round interviews. This is since I contacted them via telephone or email to arrange meeting with them, making it easier for them to not respond or to refuse to meet. I also decided that if a participant failed to show up or cancelled three times then I would not pursue them further. To do so, I felt, would seem like harassing them when clearly there was a reason they were not meeting me. For those who did agree to meet, I felt confident that they had done so ‘freely’ since it took a small amount of effort for them to meet with me. Though all venues were as close to the participants’ homes as possible, if travel expenses were incurred I had agreed in advance to pay them. I also made sure I met somewhere I could buy the participants refreshments, such as a snack or drink, but decided against paying a cash incentive for participation. Several of those who participated in second and third-round interviews took an interest in the research, wanting to know who

would read it, how many other participants there were and where they came from, what I thought so far, whether I was paid to do the research etc. Part of keeping them informed, I felt, was to answer these questions honestly and encourage their interest.

4.6.5.3 Confidentiality and anonymity

All participants were afforded a pseudonym to help protect their anonymity. Whilst participants were offered the opportunity to choose their own, all were happy to allow me to choose one for them. I also used pseudonyms for any people referred to in interviews and changed the names of any locations referred to: i.e. school or college names; training providers; places of work and towns. The exception to this was the use of the city names Exeter and Plymouth. I felt these locations were sufficiently large enough so as not to compromise the anonymity of the participants. Despite these steps, the high level of detail offered in some of the narratives meant participants might still be identifiable, at least to those who knew them best. Given the nature of the research, this seemed an inevitable possibility, though the likelihood of their friends and family reading the research seemed quite small. Nevertheless, it was important to be clear about how the information they provided would be stored and shared. By doing so participants were able to make informed decisions about what they chose to share with me. Because I transcribed the interviews myself, no third parties listened to the participants’ voices and data was anonymised before being included in any writing.

Prior to undertaking the research, I had considered the possibility that a participant might disclose to me something that had the potential to cause harm to them or to others, or that they might discuss illegal behaviour. I was aware of BERA guidelines in relation to this and responsibilities around considering disclosure to the authorities:

Researchers who judge that the effect of the agreements they have made with participants, on confidentiality and anonymity, will allow the continuation of illegal behaviour, which has come to light in the course

of the research, must carefully consider making disclosure to the appropriate authorities. If the behaviour is likely to be harmful to the participants or to others, the researchers must also consider disclosure. (BERA, 2011: 8)

I decided that if a participant seemed likely to disclose something of a level of seriousness that would oblige me to report it, I would stop the recording and remind them of my responsibilities. In practice, however, though participants disclosed both illegal and potentially harmful behaviour, I did not feel this was of a level of seriousness that would warrant breaching confidentiality and anonymity. The type of things they spoke about were taking drugs for leisure use; addiction to alcohol; working cash-in-hand whilst claiming benefits and driving friends’ cars without a licence.

One of the issues related to confidentiality and anonymity arose during the research process. During the writing up period in 2015 I decided to use online sources to follow-up on the young adults whom I had interviewed only once. Over the period of the research I became increasingly aware of the ‘digital footprint’ individuals leave, often through their use of social media accounts. This generates different forms of data, available in the public domain. However, it also raises ethical questions about whether, or how, it is appropriate to incorporate the data. Generally, the type of data this offered access to was not detailed. For example, one of the participants I had met with had spoken about their aim to join the navy, his work status (available publically via social media) confirmed that this was what he had done. However, for one of the participants, ‘Nicola’ (discussed in sections 5.2.1 and 6.4.2), the online data available was substantial. Further, the data challenged assumptions that might otherwise have been made about Nicola and the way in which her life unfolded after my interview with her.

The use of online data in a ‘stand alone’ separate study, using only online sources, would have been relatively unproblematic. Indeed, all the information was accessible to anyone with an internet connection. Further, Nicola had expressly sought to share her story via her Twitter account and by making a

film and posting it online. However, the ethical issues become more ‘thorny’ when considering the interview data I also had access to. It was the connection between the two types of data that was problematic. I was conscious that Nicola understood she would be afforded a pseudonym prior to undertaking the interview in 2010. It was possible, therefore, that she discussed things she would not have wanted connected to her real identity. By contrast, the film and her Twitter account used her full, real name.

I considered carefully whether it was appropriate to include this unanticipated data. Whilst it might have been easier (and less ‘messy’ ethically) to ignore them in my analysis, this would have meant misrepresenting my interpretation of Nicola’s narrative. To have ignored the data I had access to, and to present an interpretation that I did not feel was authentic, would have raised other ethical questions. Nevertheless, I recognised the importance of ensuring the participant’s anonymity was protected. As such, I did not link directly to the film that Nicola had made or to her Twitter account. Whilst I have included some direct quotes in section 6.4.2, their traceability has been tested using both internet search engines and Twitter’s internal search function.

4.6.5.4 Detriment caused to research participants or others

I did not anticipate that the planned research would cause significant detriment to participants. However, I was aware that undertaking interviews might cause participants to consider aspects of their lives that were distressing or upsetting. Indeed, during the course of the interviews participants spoke about loss and bereavement; negative memories from school; alcohol addiction; issues related to their health; bullying in the workplace; negative relationships with partners and housing difficulties. It was important to handle these situations sensitively, something which I felt able to do since I was experienced working with young adults. I always adopted a non-judgemental approach, listening carefully to what they had to say rather than offering advice and guidance. It was important to know when it was and was not appropriate to probe further. For example, one participant told me they dropped out of college for ‘personal reasons’ and it was clear from their

body language that they did not want to discuss this further. Though this was potentially an interesting area, I moved the conversation onto an issue they were more comfortable with. I interviewed this participant three times in total, and in later interviews they talked in some detail about their feelings related to other issues. Not only did I feel I had made the right decision in the first interview on ethical grounds, but my awareness of their discomfort seemed to make them more at ease in future interactions; confident that they would not be pressed to discuss something they were uncomfortable with.

Participating in the interviews also had the potential to be a positive experience for the participants for a variety of reasons. For some, the fact that somebody wanted to listen to what they had to say was perceived positively. This was expressed by some participants prior to and during the interviews, mostly in terms of wanting people to see them as individuals and not as part of a group of unemployed ‘scroungers’ (Anna, Interview 1, July 2010). At times it seemed to have a ‘cathartic effect, helping them to express and resolve emotions as well to clarify their feelings and ideas about the future’ (Thomson and Holland, 2003: 239), though it is important to note that this was not the intended outcome of the interviews. Others seemed to recognise their own achievements through the interview process; the interview schedule offered them the opportunity to talk about things they had done well and their own interests, often leading to enthusiastic, animated conversations. I was aware that participation in the interviews also had the potential to influence the behaviour of the participants in ways that could be either positive or negative. However, when I considered the influence of the research compared with all the other factors in their life I decided the impact was likely to be relatively insignificant:

… much of the time this research has very little significance for the people being studied, compared with all the other things going on in their lives. (Hammersley and Traianou, 2012: 11)

Indeed, since meetings were spread over a two-year period and generally lasted around an hour each time, this was hardly likely to have the same

impact as other regular interactions in their busy lives: for example with friends, family, course providers, employers or other professionals.

The potential for research to be detrimental extends beyond those who are directly involved as participants. In this study, I was particularly conscious of staff at the settings who had generously allowed me access. It was possible that their services, or indeed individual staff, could be criticised by the participants. Both settings, however, were organisations that delivered services on behalf of other organisations: the Future Jobs Fund and The Prince’s Trust. Further, they were one of a number of organisations that delivered the services in the region. This made it much harder to identify the specific organisation or individuals within it, though of course those working directly at a setting would be able to identify themselves and possibly colleagues. Despite the challenges of identifying the specific organisation, it was nevertheless a possibility that reputational damage could be afforded to