The book has two aims. The first is to promote what the authors
call "community-based research," which shifts control
of social-science research from the investigator to the investigated-or
at least pushes it in that direction, so that power is shared
between them. The second promotes the use of students in community-based
research (CBR), not only because it gives them experience with
research methods and techniques, but also because it teaches them
that research is good for something other than itself, that research
can be used for "community betterment and social change."
These notions--that researchers should give up control of their
science and that research should be used as a catalyst for change--are
likely to alarm a few social scientists.
"A defining feature of CBR," the authors write, "is
that the research focus, if not the question itself, always derives
from the needs of the community rather than the theoretical interests
of the discipline, as is the case with traditional academic research."
A little later they add that "(f)or those used to objectivity
and scientific distance, CBR insists on connectedness and relationship
building."
The underlying idea is that the production of knowledge about
communities ought to be a shared enterprise. People are not rats
in a maze. They are agents who ought to be involved in affairs
that concern them. Kant is not mentioned, but the logic is Kantian:
people are to be regarded, even by researchers, as ends in themselves,
not means. Of course, doing so raises the specter of bias: how
will we ever know the observer's effect if the observed are not
only aware of the gaze but directing its focus?
But science, we must remember, is only ever the art of the possible;
and when the art involves human beings, there are huge ethical
constraints. The study of people involves inevitable antinomies.
On the one hand, what sort of shape would the world be in if none
of us bothered to find out about each other? On the other hand,
what business is it of ours to pry into their lives? There is
something at least voyeuristic, perhaps also exploitative, and
certainly extractive about building academic careers off the local
knowledge of particular, often disempowered communities.
My discipline, cultural anthropology, is an exemplar of just this
sort of extraction: what anthropologists have nearly always done
is study the ordinary lives of folks all over the world-but usually
elsewhere, and often among the meek, the poor, the peripheral,
the colonized, the oppressed. And for several decades we have
also wrung our hands over the moral implications of doing what
we do: representing those lives in articles, monographs, films,
and photos-all representations that benefit us, but seldom obviously
the people we study.
So this book, which offers a moral-and scholarly-alternative,
caught my interest. The guidewords are "research with"
rather than "research on." A touchstone is Paolo Freire's
classic, Pedagogy of the Oppressed. If learning ought to
liberate, then so should research. The authors are social scientists
in departments of sociology, political science, and education.
They are also clearly community members and teachers, concerned
not only with the production of knowledge but also the good of
community and pedagogy of students.
"What," they ask early on, "is the purpose of higher
educationif not to reach out so as to provide something useful
to society, starting with the communities that surround them?"
(2). Later they point out what we have long known: "that
students learn better when their learning is not bound by classrooms
and textbooks and when they are called on to do more than memorize
information so as to reproduce it on an exam."
The book discusses how researchers can build trusting, collaborative
relationships with the communities they study, ways to put communities
themselves in charge of aspects of the research, and techniques
for making sure research addresses community needs as much as
it satisfies researchers' interests. There are many useful ideas,
such as pairing student fact-finders with resident community organizers.
It's a lovely exchange. Students gain legitimacy and experience.
The community gets research labor.
I am not without quibbles. The book offers no real argument for
why CBR is better than traditional social research. There is a
chapter on its benefits-but it is a list of obvious advantages
for communities studied rather than a defense of the moral and
epistemological advantages for scholarship itself. The book sings
for the choir. It offers insights and encouragement and models
for how to go about doing community research that empowers its
subjects. But given that the audience is presumed to be friendly
to the idea, the book is surprisingly thin on case material. It
is sprinkled with examples, but these come in the form of cut-away
sidebars, textbook anecdotes, and graphs that are sometimes laughably
general. They tell all-too-briefly what could, and probably should,
have filled several chapters. A well-described case study, from
start to finish, with details about scholar-community relations,
student involvement, problems and pitfalls, and write-up, would
have been especially useful.
This is a much-needed handbook for faculty and students and community
activists looking for ways to form partnerships. I encourage you
to read it. I have already shared it with colleagues.