The contribution of autoethnography in research and practice

Autoethnography is an academic research methodology exploring oneself in the situations in which we find ourselves that says something meaningful for others. It is a story of self (auto), of people and culture (ethno), and the study of (ology).

Having supervised masters and doctoral students carrying autoethnographic research I am often struck by the positivist gravitational pull that diminishes their own voice in their own world. Instead validity, reproducibility and generalizability keeps cropping up, as does objectivity and sample sizes, at least early on in the research process. It takes courage and confidence for students to open themselves up to the full range of creative possibilities that might include art, poetry and writing creatively that gives life to who they are in the contexts and situations they are trying to work through. It was the Scottish enlightenment philosopher David Hume who said we all have something of the dove, wolf and serpent within us. Autoethnography offers the means to explore these essentially human tensions and give words and form to how they play out in ways that we can usefully share.

I will give an example of a recent conversation with someone interested in a particular government policy area. Clearly in policy circles we can choose from an array of quantitative and qualitative methods to make our point powerfully to funders, politicians, stakeholders and the like. In a policy document autoethnography may well not have a place. However, what about the practice of the policymaker themselves that comes to shape and forms that policy. What choices does that person make in deciding: who to talk to and who to leave out; what quantitative instruments to use and why; how to shape and form the argument and so on. It is here in the deeply reflexive work of autoethnography can make an important contribution. It helps us to reveal to ourselves to ourselves and to others. For example, what biases we have and how do they shape our world view, how we show up and engage with people (particularly with those that have less power and influence), it speaks to our dilemmas and relational ethics as we make choices. In this sense, autoethnography has a contribution to play, particularly in form of ‘tangential validity’ that helps us holistically explore what on earth we are all doing, why are we doing it and the impact we have.   

Bringing our book to life: the unpredictable process of working with friends and colleagues.

Bob MacKenzie and I are just finishing off our recent book where we were both co-editors and authors of some of the chapters. Here I share some of the detail of our project, the kind of fine detail that is often lost. It is a journey that turned out to be far more unpredictable and subjective than we had initially envisioned. This blog post delves into the hopes, challenges, and unexpected twists encountered during the writing process of our book on the impact a small business school has on its communities (MacKenzie & Warwick, 2024).

How we went about writing the book and working with chapter authors was not just about the application of straightforward methodologies and methods. In the world of writing and research, projects rarely unfold according to plan, and ours was no exception. The turbulence we faced, common in smaller educational institutions, highlighted the struggle to justify projects considered tangential to the ‘day job.’

From the outset we, as co-editors, urged contributors to delve into their lifeworlds, exploring their experiences associated with the local business school. We resisted the idea of ‘bracketing out’ in phenomenology, opting instead to emphasize the social and ethical dimensions of our collective endeavours. Our chosen methods aimed to showcase the intricate strands and relationships within the business school, beyond traditional metrics and valuations.

The crux of our approach lay in “Writing in a Social Space” (WIASS), a concept rooted in communities of practice and action learning. Whether in-person or virtually (transformed into “Writing in a Virtual/Social Space” or WIAV/SS due to the challenges posed by the COVID-19 pandemic), these sessions became the heartbeat of our writing community. It was within these spaces that we nurtured mutual coaching, support, and the well-intentioned challenge – a critical friendship – all aimed at helping contributors give life to their words and make their writing shine.

Before the book took shape, our journey began with a successful writing project for a Special Issue of the journal e-Organisation and People journal on small business schools (MacKenzie & Warwick, 2019). This precursor illuminated the inner workings of the business school, tracing a coherent arc that expressed its culture and unity. The subsequent shift from the journal Special Issue to a more ambitious book project marked the beginning of ‘Phase 2’, the writing of our book.

Phase 2, however, brought unexpected challenges. The shift to online teaching due to the COVID-19 pandemic added a layer of loneliness and intensity to our work. The physical relocation of the business school further intensified the sense of isolation. Our workspace transformed from a lively, face-to-face environment to an online, faceless interaction. The daily 10:30 Teams Coffee break in the Business School became a lifeline in the sea of solitude.

Despite the success of Phase 1 of the Journal, Phase 2 presented hurdles that were not anticipated. The shift in context, compounded by the departure of the Head of the Business School due to reorganization, introduced a wave of unsettlement. Finding time to write became a collective challenge, with obligations differing among team members. The initial enthusiasm of Phase 1 waned, replaced by a need to navigate the complexities of delivering under new circumstances.

The signing of the book contract marked the commencement of Phase 2, bringing with it a shared sense of obligation. However, not everyone felt this obligation to the same degree. A survey revealed the struggle to find time to write, with one respondent expressing the difficulty of engaging in scheduled sessions until the book was due to be completed.

As a co-editor and author, this marked a turning point, prompting reflection on what had changed. The external context, shaped by the COVID-19 pandemic, campus relocations, and organizational restructuring, had a profound impact. The sense of community and collaboration that once characterized our face-to-face interactions was disrupted, replaced by a fragmented, virtual landscape. Our writing community, which once thrived on the spontaneity of face-to-face engagement, had to adapt to the challenges of virtual spaces. The virtual learning environment became a crucial tool for coordination and communication, reflecting the need to transform our writing practices in response to the changing times.

In conclusion, our journey as co-editors/authors reflects the dynamic nature of collaborative writing projects in higher education. It’s a narrative of resilience, adaptation, and the persistent pursuit of our shared goal despite the uncharted waters we found ourselves navigating. As we continued we acknowledged the importance of reflecting on our experiences, learning from the unexpected, and finding new ways to foster a sense of community in an ever-evolving academic landscape.

Notes: the book is called The Impact of a Regional Business School on its Communities – A Holistic Perspective and will be published by Palgrave Macmillan as part of their Humanism in Business series.

This blog was created by Rob Warwick and Bob MacKenzie, lightly polished by ChatGPT 3.5, and with a final buffing up by me, Rob.

MacKenzie, B., & Warwick, R. (2019). Writing from the University of Chichester Business School. E-Organisations and People, 26(2).

MacKenzie, B., & Warwick, R. (2024). The Impact of a Regional Business School on its Communities – A Holistic Perspective. Palgrave.

The ‘bus test’ for our academic work

Source: Wikimedia – Arriva436

Several weeks ago I was asked to review an academic paper that was to be presented at a leading management conference. I read the title and it made no sense to me whatsoever. It was only half way through the abstract that I got an inkling. Towards the end of the introduction I had got it, just. And once I had waded through the paper and read it again it said something that was interesting and relevant. The authors were playing a tightly woven game with a small group of fellow researchers interested in a focused area of organisational life using a particular methodology.  Now I appreciate we all have our shorthand, jargon and people we want to impress. That said we must be mindful of the ultimate beneficiaries of our efforts –people who are struggling to make sense of their organisational lives.

In my review I made the following comment: ‘If your paper was left on a bus and picked up by a busy manager what would they make of it?’ In other words, how might it shine a light on their practice, which may at times may seem unfathomable to them.

So I propose a test, which I will call ‘the bus test’. Before we send of our papers and books off for review we should hand our efforts to someone facing the areas of research we are interested in. They should at least be able to understand the title and abstract. Better still that they can relate to what has been said. That is not to say that they should agree, but at least they should be able to form an opinion from which a conversation could occur. Only then can the authors dive into their focused arguments, literature and methods.

As an aside, much has been has been said about Open Access in academia where citizens have the right to have access to research material. To my mind this is a part of a similar debate particularly in the field of leadership and management.