(Re)shaping the question

My primary area of interest – other than archival studies – is English literature, and in particular Shakespeare and the English Renaissance. When writing my research proposal, the greatest difficulty that I found was how to articulate my interests, which are literary (and therefore belong more to the ‘humanities’ school) in nature, within the framework of the social sciences. In particular, the methodology section was confusing, as I am used to thinking of ‘the method’ as simply reading a text, thinking about what the work says, researching the criticism that has been written about the work, and then attempting to contribute to the scholarly tradition with my own analysis. I thus found myself having to think of how the project, originally entirely theoretical, might have some practical applications which could be researched and established through a more ‘sociological’ approach.

Overall, however, I found the experience of writing a SSHRC proposal extremely rewarding. In particular, it helped me to refine my interests and general objective. I will try to use this approach again (if I am ever put again in the position), when I write literary criticism. By thinking of how my analysis can be applied to practical, real-world questions, I should be able to present my work in a more convincing shape.

SSHRC Proposal Example

I and three others got assigned the SSHRC Proposal Example #2, which is a Masters proposal for a research project that examines “the programs and policies of a chapter of Big Sisters,” in relation to body image issues among young girls. I have broken down the structure of the proposal, which I offer here (briefly). The first two sentences of the first paragraph begin with the word “I.” The first describes the student’s future academic affiliation, and the second describes the student’s “keen interest.” The remainder of the paragraph is dedicated to justifying a “space” for the research the student intends on undertaking. The second paragraph is concerned entirely with the student’s academic credentials – i.e. the courses they intend to take. The “purpose of the research” is in bold, and the particular objectives are listed in bullet points. The student then introduces each of the following sections with a subtitle: Background (which is allotted three paragraphs), Methodology (which is again presented in lettered bullet points), Contribution to the Advancement of Knowledge, and Access and Experience. Background and Methodology take up the largest portion of the two page proposal (probably about a page altogether). An interesting question raised during group discussion was the placement of the last section, Access and Experience. It seemed awkwardly placed, and as though it perhaps should follow the second paragraph, where the student lists the courses relevant to the research, and the perceived benefits of her supervisor’s guidance. My guess is that the student believed that, while relevant – and thus necessary to include – the reader would nevertheless judge this section the least “important” and therefore it was placed at the end. Or alternatively, because the student resumes their discussion of him/herself in the first person, he/she wanted to leave the reader with a strong impression of her expertise and trustworthiness. There was, however, a typo in the last sentence; the student writes “I belief my good…” instead of “I believe my good…” making it impressive that this proposal was accepted. Perhaps this was not the final draft.

The Logic of Verification

“The logic of verification” which Luker explains takes for granted the possibility of “qualification” — that a social phenomenon is (a) divisible into its smallest part, which can then be (b) assigned a numerical value and thus (c) contrasted and compared – is at times an unsatisfying method of verification, yet there is not a clear alternative available for social scientists who are looking to discuss subjective experiences in an objective way. The social world, as Luker acknowledges, is substantially different from the natural world, and thus trying to evaluate the two using similar methods will almost inevitably lead (at some point) to misunderstandings or misinterpretations of particular phenomena. The trend can perhaps best be seen in the university, where such sub-disciplines as political theory, traditionally housed in the department for political science, have been moved to less “scientific” departments (in this case, the department of philosophy – which is itself becoming increasingly quantitative in nature). The problem is that data can be persuasive, and hence we are easily convinced that the results tell an accurate and complete story when they often in fact do not.