Ethics in educational research: Review boards,ethical issues and researcher development

Abstract

Educational research, and research in the Social Sciences more generally, has experienced a growth in the introduction of ethical review boards since the 1990s. Increasingly, universities have set up ethics review procedures that require researchers to submit applications seeking approval to conduct research. Review boards and the rules and conditions under which they operate have been criticised as obstructive, unnecessarily bureaucratic, and even unethical. At the same time, review boards and their procedures have been acknowledged as contributing to consideration of the ethical conduct of research. This paper explores the issues related to ethical review and examines the wider ethical considerations that may arise during the research process. The paper concludes that a purely administrative process of review is inadequate to ensure the ethical conduct of research, especially qualitative research. Rather, it is argued that ethical research entails the resolution of a potential series of ethical dilemmas as they arise during research. As such, the ethical conduct of research is a matter of researcher formation and development.

Introduction

This paper addresses current issues regarding the place and role of ethics in educational research. Academic researchers and professional associations have argued current ethical procedures in the form of ethics review committees are often lacking in knowledge and expertise of particular ethical contexts, including education (Sikes and Piper, 2010). Still others argue that procedures such as filling in a form seeking approval to conduct research are bureaucratic and restrictive and their main concern is one of compliance on the part of the researcher with sets of institutional regulations (Henderson and Esposito, 2017). Indeed, Velardo and Elliot (2018) argue that the restrictive nature of review processes encourages a ‘single event’ conceptualisation of ethics. Furthermore, they argue that, consequently, doctoral students in particular are not encouraged to consider ethical issues that may arise during research, including their own well-being. More importantly, critics argue that ethics reviews prior to the conduct of research often constrain research activity and can impose restrictions and conditions that may actually result in unethical research conduct (Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Parsell et al., 2014).

This paper draws on literature to explore researchers’ experiences of ethical procedures and to interrogate the issues surrounding the role of ethical review committees. The paper argues that whilst researchers’ experiences confirm some of the critical arguments found in literature, there is also a finding that having to go through an ethical approval process helped researchers to think more deeply about the conduct of their research (Sikes and Piper, 2010; Velardo and Elliot, 2018). The paper further explores the wider ethical contexts and issues that are not covered by review board procedures but which researchers encounter in the process of their work. The paper concludes that the ethical conduct of educational research is more complex than adhering to a set of strict ‘rules’ but is an issue of resolving ethical dilemmas, which is beyond the scope of a single event review process (see, for example, the Economic and Social Research Council’s Research Ethics Framework (2015)). Ethics in educational research, therefore, is part of a continuous process of learning and development in research and, therefore, constitutes an issue of pedagogy.

The first part of the paper explores the emergence of ethical review boards in social science and educational research and illustrates some of the problematic issues that have arisen. The second section uses ethical theories of utilitarianism and deontology to understand why review boards operate in an apparently constrained context. Furthermore, a case is made for the necessity of virtue ethics and an ethic of care to be the foundation of ethical research. In the final section, the issues discussed earlier in the paper are presented as a series of ethical dilemmas that require resolution. In particular, the complex relationships between researchers and their participants (including the power relationships) are addressed. Finally, it is argued that ethical issues are more than dilemmas for research but an important element of researcher development and identity.

Ethics review boards

The Economic and Social Research Council Research Ethics Framework came into effect in 2006 and required institutions, including universities, to make requirements for the ethical conduct of social-science research. Naturally, institutions turned to existing practice in biomedical life sciences to provide a model, even though there were already existing concerns within Health research (Stark and Hedgecoe, 2010). As a result, at least in the UK and several western European countries, universities set up ethical review boards, which in turn, generated codes of conduct. Thereby, researchers seeking ethical approval for their projects, make written submissions to these boards (Smith, 2016).

Review boards have been criticised as bureaucratic, behaving in an arrogant manner, being a hindrance rather than a help to research and even as being unnecessary, as social scientist have always done this kind of research (Breckler, 2005; Sikes and Piper, 2010). Furthermore, institutional bodies have been accused of making what could be considered unethical decisions in an effort to protect themselves and their reputations rather than prospective research participants (Smith, 2016; Stark and Hedgecoe, 2010). Smith (2016) and Bloor et al. (2007) argue that the codes and rules applied by review boards impose constraints on educational research that do not hinder other professions such as journalism. Velardo and Elliot (2018) counter that whilst review board processes may be cumbersome, they can be important in the preparation and formation of new and student researchers. At worst, however, review boards have been accused of controlling, limiting or even preventing research being undertaken. Consequently, decisions made by review boards act to determine what makes research ethical and what ethical researchers can and cannot do (Velardo and Elliot, 2018).

The process of written submissions to a review board is also open to accusations of lack of transparency leading to distrust (Smith, 2016). Furthermore, Gregory (2003: 46) argues that the sets of codes or principles laid down by review boards amount to ‘highly abstract assertions’ that are often in conflict with each other, and that provide little in the way of guidance for specific research contexts and the ethical issues that may arise within them. Review boards and codes of principles may well suit institutions such as universities because the rules they lay down can be specific and discourage interpretation (Pring, 2003). Velardo and Elliot (2018) go further and argue that review board procedures (through a persistent focus on avoidance of harm) may well create an impression of researchers as potentially irresponsible, whilst infantilising participants.

Moreover, whilst ethics review boards are common, they are not universal. The majority of institutions appear to have specific ethics committees for educational research but others may only have one committee with oversight of all disciplines, sometimes without an education representative (Sikes and Piper, 2010). Other institutions, for example my own university, have layers of ethics boards and committees. At one layer, there is a School of Education Ethics Forum, comprising education academics, which reviews applications from undergraduate and post-graduate Masters level students. At a level above is a College of Social Sciences Ethics Committee that reviews applications from doctoral students and academic staff. Having oversight of the ethical conduct of all research within the university is the University Ethics Committee.

Where they exist, review boards are constituted differently and operate in different ways. Whilst some procedures initiate discussion on the ethical conduct of research, others are aimed mainly at avoiding controversy and litigation for their institutions (Sikes and Piper, 2010). This is reflective of Smith’s (2016) argument that whilst review board procedures might encourage an early engagement with ethical issues in research, they do so at the level of an administrative exercise and do not go on to address or oversee actual research practices. This leads to perceptions of ethics as being a single event of rules-based thinking intended to produce compliance, and suggests that deeper, more extensive ethical thinking may be beyond the scope of review board procedures.

In June 2015, Science Europe held a workshop in Brussels on the subject of ethical protocols and standards for Social Sciences. The reasons behind the workshop included a realisation that current measures of dealing with ethical issues in research, based on a review process similar to that used in biomedical sciences, were inadequate for social science research, and often felt by some researchers to be a barrier rather than an aid to research (Science Europe, 2015). Biomedical research ethics, already codified for half a century, had led the field in ethics and had heavily influenced those ethical review processes in place in universities and other institutions that conducted research, including social science research (Sikes and Piper, 2010). Consequently, it was felt that whilst social science had its own ethical issues, they had not been codified in the same way, nor were review processes, where they existed, considered adequate. The workshop argued that: ‘The social sciences urgently need ethical protocols that can function effectively across disciplines and can adapt to advances in research methodologies and strategies’ (Science Europe 2015, introduction).

Advances in research that merit new ethical considerations include Big Data around privacy, the sharing, linkage and re-identification of data, and new technology (Science Europe, 2015). Consequently, the workshop report argued, that the single model derived from the life sciences of dealing with ethics was now inadequate and that social scientists of all disciplines required greater ethical understanding of research methodologies, methods and theoretical frameworks. The workshop report (Science Europe, 2015), therefore, recommended that social scientists take ownership of research ethics related to their disciplines and develop their own ethical expertise, including that of ethical reviewers. Furthermore, the report recommended that review panels should contain members who understand the specific ethical issues of the discipline in which a proposal has been submitted and that they should be aware and take account of the different levels of risk inherent in individual proposals rather than enforce a single rule for all. In other words, the report called for new ethical guidelines that address the real ethical issues of social science research as found in and across the social science disciplines. The evidence above suggests that although review boards have the potential to be helpful, they can also inhibit research and research activities. This begs the question, therefore, of the extent to which the potential of review boards to enhance research can be realised. Similarly, it invites consideration of whether the enhancement of ethical research lies elsewhere, such as with supervisors and experienced researchers. A consideration of the nature of educational research and the ethical issues that commonly arise allows for discussion of the necessity and nature of ethical processes.

Educational research and wider ethical issues

From the above, it becomes clear that ethical frameworks and codes based on rules and sets of principles, whilst possibly helpful, are certainly inadequate for ensuring the rigorous ethical conduct of educational research. They may well be fit for the governance of educational research in terms of oversight and regulation, but more is required for the learning and formation of the ethically rigorous educational researcher (Baykara et al., 2015; Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Smith, 2016). Ethical issues in educational research go beyond a matter of compliance with rules, codes and principles to the complex matter of ethical dilemmas that are organic, dynamic and dependant on context and relationships, and which are often contestable (Baykara et al., 2015; Henderson and Esposito, 2017). Moreover, in contexts where the values, beliefs and experiences of researcher and researched are not shared, the issues of whose values take precedence and how the power relationships between the parties are negotiated, need to be addressed (Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Smith, 2016). In the remainder of this section, ethical theories are used to explore the operational nature of ethics review boards. In addition, ethical issues that are currently beyond the function of review boards are introduced in order to illustrate the constrained perception of ethical research that the work of review boards perpetuates.

Understanding ethical theories informs the reasoning behind the ethical decisions that may be made throughout the research process. Understanding the principles and codes that inform review boards, their relevance to educational research, and the resolution of competing codes also entails consideration of these same theories (Pring, 2003). There are two ethical theories that predominate in the thinking behind rules and principles: namely, utilitarianism and deontology (Brooks et al., 2014; Pring, 2003; Stutchbury and Fox, 2009). Utilitarian or consequentialist ethics are based on the principle that doing something is ethical because it will result in some good. For the researcher and members of review boards, this involves consideration of the potential benefits as set against possible negative consequences. A negative consequence of a teacher participating in a research interview, for example, might simply be the loss of time that would otherwise have been spent teaching. If, however, the potential benefits were perceived to outweigh the negatives, then the ethical position is one of acceptability. As a result, researchers and their colleagues on review boards would seek to ‘maximise benefit and minimise harm’ (Brookes et al., 2014). Therefore, a decision to undertake research in the first place, is likely to be taken on the assumption that the findings of the research will lead to improvement in the lives and circumstances of participants. What constitutes concepts such as ‘good’, ‘improvement’ and ‘benefit’, and on whose values these are based, is considered later in this paper.

Deontology can be understood as adhering to a general rule of behaviour as a matter of duty, regardless of consequences (Brooks et al., 2014; Pring, 2003; Stutchbury and Fox, 2009). Based on Kantian ethics of rationality (Brooks et al., 2014), such behaviour might include telling the truth even if it is hurtful because it is a moral obligation and an intrinsically good thing always to tell the truth. However, Brookes et al. argue that a rigidly deontological stance can lead to ethical dilemmas. They offer the example of a student promised confidentiality who says some negative things about his teacher. At a subsequent interview, the teacher asks about the student’s experiences of her class. The researcher is caught between keeping the promise of confidentiality or telling the truth.

The rules, codes and principles that underpin the work of ethical review boards can be understood largely in terms of both utilitarianism and deontology. Thus, application forms for ethical approval of research include questions inviting the researcher to indicate potential benefits to participants, the greater education community and the wider research community. The rules and codes themselves are founded on principles of ‘respect for persons, beneficence (and non-maleficence) and justice’ (Brooks et al., 2014: 28). In the context of live research, it is precisely the interplay among these principles that leads to conflict and ambiguity. As these codes and principles have come under scrutiny and undergone various iterations in research institutions across the globe, the principles have been both extended and refined to include values of democracy, academic freedom, honesty and a duty of care (see guidelines from research associations in Canada, Europe, UK, USA and Australia, for example).

The fact remains, however, that there are ethical considerations beyond the scope of the administrative function of ethics review boards. The primary consideration is whether it is ethical for any piece of research to take place at all. The questions of what to do, how to do it, with whom, and what constitutes good practice, are ethical matters (Baykara et al., 2015). Empirical research involves intruding on people’s lives and in education settings this is normally at a time when they would otherwise be engaged in teaching or learning. Consequently, questions arise regarding whether or not it is culturally and ethically acceptable to interfere in the everyday lives of educators and their students. The nature and purpose of the research and who considers these to be responsible and worthwhile is dependent on the cultural, academic and individual values of the researcher, the researched, and the society in which it is taking place (Smith, 2016). Henderson and Esposito (2017), however, counter that the discourses around empirical research are dominated by the assumptions of the academy, with little input from participants. Moreover, Gregory (2003) argues that the educational researcher, in addition to a commitment to rigorous research, necessarily has a commitment to education and learning. Educational research entails finding out what we do not know and is dependent on a clear question, purpose and methodology. Ethical rigor, then, demands that it seeks the trust and integrity not only of the researched and the broader research community, but also of the wider education community (Clarke, 2006; Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Sikes and Piper, 2010). What is chosen to be researched, by definition, excludes what is not chosen. Similarly, who conducts the research, and who becomes the participant, excludes all other possibilities (Kumashiro, 2014).

Smith (2016) argues that in educational research, ethics is as much a part of researcher formation as learning about methodologies. Kumashiro (2014) suggests that academics should engage in an ethical questioning of the assumptions made about research from the outset. He cites the researcher’s call for participant engagement based on the assumption that the research will be beneficial to all by improving the world of the participant and providing ‘insider’ knowledge for the researcher. Yet, he questions the basis on which the suggested mutuality is founded, who decides what is beneficial, for whom, and for what purpose.

Henderson and Esposito (2017) address the fundamental question of the need to do research given the availability of information over a range of platforms that never previously existed. They argue that the need for research exists in great part because the academy insists that it is a good thing to do and the esteem in which universities are held is a persuading factor for participants. Similarly, the researchers’ attachment to the academy encourages their participation in the system. Consequently, Henderson and Esposito (2017), Baykara et al. (2015) and Tangen (2014) argue that researchers need to develop moral sensitivity towards their participants and research topic. Whilst it can be argued that the ethical principles set out by review boards and processes can initiate and foster consideration of the ethical conduct of research, the extent to which it can do so is limited (Sikes and Piper, 2010; Tangen, 2014). Indeed, ethical issues arise out of the complex nature of the relationships between researchers and participants (Henderson and Esposito, 2017) and that the issues are addressed, developed and changed as the relationship between researchers and participants is negotiated throughout the research process (Baykara et al., 2015; Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Tangen, 2014; Velardo and Elliot, 2018).

Furthermore, in ethical educational research, conducting the research is only part of the process; the surrounding context from the initial decision to do research, to the application form, through relationships with research participants, the broader research community, the wider educational community, to dissemination through academic papers and publications entail their own ethical considerations. The resolution of the ethical dilemmas that emerge throughout the process can only be achieved at different stages of the process as they arise. Some may be predictable, but others not. For the educational researcher, therefore, ethical conduct is a matter of being and becoming through experience and learning with supervisors and more experienced colleagues.

Fendler (2016) warns of four ethical issues related to data handling facing qualitative researchers. Fendler identifies these as bootstrapping (fitting new constructs into existing frameworks), stereotyping (generalising from one group of participants to other populations), dehumanisation (making implications from non-human experiments), and determinism (the practice of using research for prediction). The problem highlighted by Fendler is that, whilst quantitative research that might be used in these ways can be justified in terms of reliability and validity, qualitative research is judged on its credibility and trustworthiness. It is not uncommon for researchers to avoid or unwittingly engage in one or more of these issues as they seek to organise their research through, for example, creating categories or communities such as ‘teachers’ or ‘pupils’. Henderson and Esposito (2017) encountered just such issues as they sought to produce research that was both credible and beneficial to their participants. They conclude that ethical issues such as those identified by Fendler can be avoided by adopting an ethic of humility, admitting that we don’t know it all, that we will get things wrong and that, as career researchers, we need our participants more than they need us.

Gregory (2003) argues that, in such an ethically complex milieu, a decision to undertake research may be taxing, especially for students and early career researchers. First, they have to be certain that they are the appropriate person to conduct the particular research in question. Second, even if they have considerable practitioner experience in the field, if they are at the beginning of their research career, they must determine if they the right person to conduct the research at this time. Third, if they are doing so for the purposes of gaining a degree or promotion, to what extent does the potential benefit to the researcher compare with any potential disadvantages to participants? Consideration of ethical dilemmas such as these results in a growing sense of identity of the researcher as researcher. Paradoxically, what one chooses to research and how, whilst forming what one wants to become, also defines what one is not (Kumashiro, 2014). In this conceptualisation of ethics as a process of researcher formation, codes, principles and rules diminish in significance and are superseded by identifying, addressing and resolving emerging ethical dilemmas.

In support of arguments for the formation of the virtuous researcher (Pring, 2003), Brooks et al. (2014) argue for a prominence of virtue ethics. Virtue ethics, they argue, are about the personal and professional qualities of the researcher and the virtues that they both hold and enact: ‘The central focus is on becoming a more virtuous person who is able to work out what is virtuous in a specific case’ (Brooks et al., 2014: 25). In pursuit of ethical rigour in educational research, Pendlebury and Enslin (2001) argue that researchers need to be concerned that their research should aim at improving the quality of life of participants. Parsell et al. (2014) distinguish between research subjects in positivist research and research participants in participatory action research, with the term ‘participants’ used to refer to both the researchers and the persons researched. By extrapolation, given the largely qualitative nature of educational research and the commitment to education required of educational researchers, then their use of inclusive and more egalitarian terminology could be applied to all forms of educational research. Ethical considerations, as envisaged by Pendlebury and Enslin and Parsell et al., suggest that whilst utilitarian, deontic and virtue ethics inform our understanding of the ethical conduct of educational research, more is required for a more rounded appreciation of the complex ethical issues that arise throughout the research process. In particular, the need for an ethic of care is implied or suggested by several authors (Baykara et al., 2015; Bloor et al., 2007; Clarke, 2006; Fahie, 2014; Gregory, 2003; Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Pring, 2003; Velardo and Elliot, 2018). An ethic of care entails care for the people involved in the immediate process (including participants, funders and sponsors), for colleagues in ethics committees and care for the research itself, for how it is conducted, and for how it is disseminated. In this model, all involved in research are part of a network and the research should have the intention of enhancing each other’s lives, at least in the context of the research.

An ethic of care in educational research

Ethics, including an ethic of care, permeates the entire research process. How research is conducted is, therefore, more than a matter of successful completion of an application for approval. The decision to undertake research in the first instance places the educational researcher in a position of caring: for the focus of the research, for the funder or sponsor, the proposed participants and for the wider research and education communities and, not least, the researcher her- or himself. Science Europe (2015) argues that researching society requires greater understanding of research methods and theoretical frameworks. Thus, researchers are encouraged to think about their own place in a project in terms of their experience and the values and beliefs that underpin the decision to undertake the research and the questions and issues that frame it (Gregory, 2003). Data gathering is also a matter of care: care to ensure that enough data is gathered to address the focus of the research, but sufficient care also not to interfere too long in the lives of those being researched, in an effort to ensure adequate data is collected through gathering more than is necessary. Similarly, care extends to the quality of analysis, reporting and dissemination (Stutchbury and Fox, 2009). The data on which these are based represents a small piece of the lives of the participants, and the researcher can be considered as holding it in trust for them. Since most educational research can be understood as seeking to improve or enhance the context being researched, then rigorous research is an ethical requirement and dissemination through presentation, lecture or publication is not just a good thing to do, but is an ethical imperative for researcher conduct. The researcher, therefore, is in a position of care in choosing how, where and with whom to disseminate, including conferences, co-authors and publishers. The decisions made regarding such matters are about more than the professional advancement of the researcher; they are also about that researcher’s ethical responsibility to the research.

Issues for researcher development

The development of ethical responsibility and researcher identity entails the researcher addressing the ethical issues discussed above and to approach them as a series of ethical dilemmas that require resolution. From the perspective of an ethic of care, a starting point in thinking about ethical protocols for educational research might be to consider the question raised by Kumashiro (2014: 49), namely, ‘in what ways can it be problematic for educational researchers to conceptualise ethics in research?’ The regulation of research in biomedical science arose as a response to unethical practices when dealing with human subjects in the early parts of the 20th century, including experiments on humans in the Nazi concentration camps of World War II and the notorious syphilis study in Tuskegee, Alabama in the USA (see e.g. Brooks et al., 2014 and Sikes and Piper, 2010). Whilst citing these studies, Brooks et al. argue that they are of little relevance to educational research and reinforce notions that only negative research is of ethical concern. Nevertheless, they indicate the deficit mindset, based on assumptions of potential harm and benefit, that underpinned the construction of early versions of the codes and rules that subsequently have had a significant impact on educational research. Consequently, the systems of regulation reflect the needs and concerns of scientific research (Science Europe, 2015). They are founded on concerns of risk and harm as they might be envisaged in medical research where clinical trials may make no positive difference to people’s medical conditions, lead to illness or, in extreme cases, death. In qualitative educational research, such levels of harm are unlikely. However, whilst physical harm is identifiable, the emotional and personal risk that can arise in qualitative educational research may not be as immediately obvious, and less predictable to anticipate (Bloor et al., 2007; Clarke, 2006; Fahie, 2014; Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Velardo and Elliot, 2018).

There is also concern among researchers that, at least unintentionally, some research can entail a measure of deception. Stark and Hedgecoe (2010), for example, cite the ‘therapeutic misconception’, where, in biomedical research, patients choose to believe that taking part in research will result in improvements, whether they be in general medical knowledge or even their own health. As a result of concerns in both the USA and Europe, universities, other institutions and professional bodies set up systems to review applications to conduct research in their name. As they are currently constituted, however, research ethics review boards are accused of failing to engage with the debates regarding scientific research involving human subjects, even within the medical field (Stark and Hedgecoe, 2010). The criticisms voiced by Stark and Hedgecoe are also reflected in educational research (Henderson and Esposito, 2017). It is easy to see how participants in educational research, invited by someone representing the academic authority of a university, would naturally assume that participation will lead to improvement in educational knowledge, contexts or even in some way benefit their own learning. What these examples highlight is the need for social science ethics, perhaps especially in qualitative research, to give close and continuous attention to the relationships between researcher and researched . The regulatory, rules-based approach, on which ethics reviews are currently based, does not provide a context for the consideration of how researchers prepare and conduct interviews, how they consider the impact of quotations and how the use of data will affect participants and crucially, the impact of the experience on the researchers themselves (Clarke, 2006; Fahie, 2014).

The relationships among participants in educational research are also matters of care, including privacy, anonymity, consent and power. In order to satisfy research review committees, applicants must demonstrate control over each of these aspects, yet the more they do so, the more they inhibit opportunities for negotiation of these with participants (Henderson and Esposito, 2017). Smith (2016) argues that this is antithetical to ethical research and is contrary to the ethical position argued by van Rensburg (2013) that the caring educational researcher should be in a responsive relationship with participants rather than constrained by pre-set rules. Such matters are, therefore, elements of the continuous process of research and cannot be satisfied fully by a ‘correct’ entry in an ethics approval application.

Current reality, however, is that the regime of ethics review committees means that such constraints do exist. This does not mean that researchers can abrogate their ethical responsibilities by referring to a notionally more informed and expert committee (Gregory, 2003). Rather, the caring researcher is charged with navigating the dilemmas that arise in such a way as to seek ethically responsible solutions. The issues surrounding privacy, consent and the possibility of coercion can be particularly problematic. In terms of review boards, production of a plain language statement or other document furnishing prospective participants with adequate information to allow them to make a decision on participation is enough to meet their approval (Velardo and Elliot, 2018). Although in the case of most adults recorded verbal consent may be acceptable to review boards, for others consent is required by means of a signed form. Yet, consent that is fully informed and free from any hint of coercion (even the ‘gentle’ coercion of wanting to help a colleague, for example) is a matter more complex than obtaining a signature. Research participants giving consent appears a transparent and obvious course of action but the caring researcher must reason why, from whom, in what form and in which circumstances. Gregory (2003) argues that consent is an ethical as well as methodological requirement. Only once consent is given, may the researcher intervene in the otherwise unfamiliar (and hence ‘private’) lives and experiences of the research participants. Moreover, through reporting and dissemination, the details of these lives are made public. The processes of application and review, therefore, whilst helpful in encouraging ethical thinking of such matters, do not in themselves provide the platform for deliberation and discussion. Henderson and Esposito (2017) argue that participants should be consulted on the focus and conduct of the research. In addition, Clarke (2006) and Henderson and Esposito (2017) suggest that the participants’ view should be sought on their experience of the process.

Furthermore, Smith (2016) recognises that there are circumstances in which the ‘gold standard’ of signed consent faces challenge. In addition to the possibility of cultural contexts where signing might be alien, there are also possible scenarios where, for example, a parent is unable to sign consent for their child as a result of their own level of literacy or a disability. Further ethical dilemmas with consent may arise where, for instance, a parent has or has not given consent but their child wishes to choose an opposite course. The ethically caring researcher must decide whose care takes preference; care for the parent’s decision, or care for the empowerment and voice of the child. In such circumstances, a decision to comply with the demand of signed parental consent risks violating the rights of the child, which could be both unethical and uncaring. There are no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ answers to such situations, nor where the context demands an immediate decision can the researcher defer to a committee but the responsibility falls to the researcher to seek an ethically caring solution. These are complex matters that require considered judgement on the part of the researcher, seeing the reasoning behind the conflicting principles and deciding the priority to be given to them (Pring, 2003).

Relationships and power

The nature of qualitative methods in research in education is such that the moral demands of ethical research go beyond the personal to include the interpersonal and intersubjective (Gregory, 2003; Henderson and Esposito, 2017). As argued above, the ethical educational researcher cares for her or his participants and the research itself. However, thought needs to be given to the effects of the researcher-participant relationship, the relationship between both and the research itself and crucially, the effects of these on the researcher. An ethic of care, in other words, includes care for the researcher.

Whenever we undertake research in education, we create populations (Fendler, 2016), such as ‘teachers’ or ‘students’, which risks an assumption of homogeneity especially when another factor such as ‘in secondary schools’ is added. Creation of a population is itself an exercise of power and, therefore, establishes a relationship of power differential between researcher and researched participant (Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Velardo and Elliot, 2018). The dilemma for the ethical researcher, therefore, becomes how to deal with this relationship, given that it is unequal from the outset. Measures can be taken to mitigate the differential through co-construction of the research, and conceptualising the researched as participants rather than subjects, as argued above. In addition, at all times, the researcher can ask her- or himself who is benefitting from the research and in what ways (Henderson and Esposito, 2017; Kumashiro, 2014). Fahie (2014), however, details a series of vignettes from his own experience that demonstrate that regardless of measures taken towards equalising the relationship between researcher and participant, we cannot anticipate unintended effects of the research context on either. In one of his vignettes, it is possible that the participant had assumed that the researcher was in a greater position of power in relation to the research topic, in this case, workplace bullying, and had assumed that he was able to do something to change her circumstances. In qualitative educational research, there is often an assumed mutuality which as argued by Kumashiro above is questionable, but may nevertheless be tangible as the researcher nurtures a trusting and ‘friendly’ relationship in the pursuit of rich and usable data (Velardo and Elliot 2018). In another of Fahie’s vignettes, he recounts how his participant’s narrative was such that he found himself becoming emotionally affected on her behalf. The experience of the research and its aftermath was stressful for both Fahie and his participants. Clarke (2006) found herself in a similar situation when she revealed details of her private life to participants in a quest for reciprocity. Whilst ethics review committees insist that the researcher includes advice and support materials for potentially distressed participants, their concern for researchers appears limited to the physical and accidental. Dealing with the psychological and emotional impact of research on the researcher is either ignored or it is assumed that supervisors or research teams know how to and will deal with it (Velardo and Elliot 2018).

Conclusion

The weight of evidence indicates that ethical research in education is a moral rather than administrative process. Gregory (2003) argues that moral issues are open to interpretation and in order to make decisions regarding ethical dilemmas, the researcher needs to seek advice and discuss possible courses of action with others. Clarke (2006: 27) suggests a ‘user advisory board’ as a means of assuring and supporting ethical rigor in research. The ability to recognise, address and resolve ethical dilemmas, therefore, is a matter of experience of the individual researcher and also the wider research community as it is found through engaging with colleagues and reading of the literature. Becoming an ethical educational researcher, then, is a matter of pedagogy. Stutchbury and Fox (2009), in recognition of the pedagogical necessity of ethical development, constructed a framework for the ethical analysis of educational research. Using the framework to explore the ethical issues of particular projects allows researchers to initiate and stimulate the kind of conversations necessary for a more generalisable ethical development. Opportunities for such deliberation do not arise through compliance with codes and through completion of forms; rather, they are the result of the continuous nurturing of an identity of the ethically rigorous researcher. Similarly, Tangen (2014) suggests the use of ethical matrices to explore the ethical questions that arise for beginning and experienced researchers. Tangen’s principal concern is the interplay between the need for high quality research and the principles of protection of participants. In recognising that ethics and the standards of research are based on the values of both the research community and the wider political and practical contexts, Tangen suggests that research ethics considerations entail the ethics of the research community, protection of participants and the value of the research in society. These are moral as well as methodological considerations and call for a greater focus on virtue ethics and an ethic of care in particular.

If institutional concerns relate solely to administration, oversight and control, then review boards and ethics committees as they are currently constructed would be sufficient. Arguments presented in this paper, however, indicate that bureaucratic procedures are not only inadequate but may also obstruct the conduct of ethical research. For example, administrative procedures encourage virtue ethics and an ethic of care largely by implication. This being the case, then even if review boards and committees are deemed necessary, perhaps a lighter touch review would leave greater space for the discussions and debates argued for in this paper. If, however, the development process is one of cultivating, learning and nurturing of the ethical capabilities of the researcher and educational research community, then a pedagogical process that is given the same prominence as learning on methods and methodology is required. Indeed, it could be argued that ethics is an essential element of research methodology and should be integrated into methodology classes for early career researchers and become part of the daily considerations of experienced researchers as they continue to develop throughout their careers.